


The Lost Art of Correspondence

by Winterstar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Angst, Deployment, Fluff, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Military, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 02:51:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 65,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10912800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterstar/pseuds/Winterstar
Summary: The shit storm Tony found himself in – well-he had no one to blame but himself. Hacking into MIT's grading system as an undergrad to avoid the useless course work in English got him into this mess.  As a graduate student he should not have to worry about taking an English class to fulfill an undergrad requirement. But that was exactly what happened.English 13B: The Lost Art of Correspondence. It was literally a pen pal class where he was assigned to a Service member and had to write lonely hearts letters to some lunk head deployed to who knew where. He could get through it. All he had to do was convince the lunk head to go along with his plan. Fill out a spreadsheet, write the paper, no letters needed. But Lunk head refused. Lunk head wanted the lonely hearts letters. It didn’t matter that Lunk head might be the Greek god Adonis come to life, Tony didn’t have the time. Trying to navigate grad school, his parents, Tony did not need a Greek god Lunk head in his life, nor did he want to write lonely hearts letters to anyone – least of all some earnest do good soldier.By the end, though, Tony did just that. Write lonely hearts letters to his Adonis lunk head – soon to be Captain - Steve Rogers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eriot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eriot/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Утраченное искусство переписки](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15468198) by [Leshaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leshaya/pseuds/Leshaya)



> My wonderful artist! My wonderful art! When I saw the art I knew I had to have it. It would revitalize my love of Stony and boy, did it! I am thrilled to present this story to you. And I am thrilled that I was able to work with Eriot. The art is outstanding and inspiring. So thank you for this art, dear, it brought my damaged heart back to Stony!
> 
> The art can be found in the story - or ["here"](http://latelierderiot.tumblr.com/post/160762839112/im-so-excited-i-can-finally-post-this-its-my)
> 
> Also, my thanks have to go out to thegraytigress for her words of wisdom, her support during my sequestration from the fandom, and her love of Steve. Without her, I don't think I would be writing for MCU anymore. On top of all of that, she also beta read this story and help fixed all the little weaknesses. So thank you for that as well!

CHAPTER 1  
“Shit show,” Tony said. “That’s what this is, Rhodey, a fucking shit show.” His friend hurried alongside Tony as he pushed the door of the campus coffee shop open with his shoulder. “I’m a goddamned doctoral student, not a pimply faced undergrad freshman.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes as Tony walked toward the Stratton Student Center on the MIT campus. Tony didn’t appreciate the expression but he bit his tongue. Calling Rhodey out might chase him away, and right now, Tony needed Rhodey. Otherwise he would have to suffer the torture all alone. 

“Tony, we have this. Don’t get nervous about it. You know I’m here for you,” Rhodey said. Tony believed Rhodey – why wouldn’t he? That man always had his back, but now Rhodey had to go and fulfill his stupid duty. From ROTC to active duty or something like that. Tony didn’t really know. He should pay more attention to Rhodey’s life. At least, his friend understood Tony’s narcissistic tendencies and how Tony got too wrapped up in his own work to really pay much attention to just about anything else. 

“God, I’m a dick, such a goddamned dick,” Tony said and tried to sip his coffee as he juggled his phone and tablet along with the backpack that kept sliding down his shoulder. 

“We all know that, Tony. No need to announce it to the world, you know,” Rhodey said. The creep only smirked at him as they made their way across campus to get to the Student Center. 

“Very funny,” Tony said and then halted, nearly causing Rhodey to stumble into him. “Listen, you know I care about your life, right? I do.”

Rhodey frowned and looked around the campus. The autumn breeze hit them and Tony worried this would be the last time they were like this – students together. Rhodey was shipping out. He’d graduated and now he was being deployed. He’d only come back to celebrate with Tony before leaving – and then this piss ass crap happened, and Rhodey promised to help out. But the truth was that everything in Tony’s life was about to change, and regardless of his world class intelligence, Tony still couldn’t handle change very effectively. He hated it. 

Studying him, Rhodey asked, “What’s that all about?”

Tony managed to find a free hand after stowing his phone and tablet in the offending backpack. He scrubbed his fingers through his already messed hair and said, “I just – it’s just that you’re leaving and I’m stuck here. And you’re going on with your life.” Tony knew that it was only sensible that Rhodey would be moving on. He was older than Tony by a few years. He looked everywhere but at his friend. “It feels like walking backward, you know.”

“It’s just an English class, Tony. It isn’t going to stop you.” Rhodey scoffed and shook his head. “Really, I don’t think anything could ever stop Tony Stark. You’re getting two doctorates at once.”

“That’s the point. I’m an engineering doctoral student. I don’t need a fucking English class.” But that wasn’t true – that was as far from the truth as the Earth was from the center of the galaxy, and there he was starting to sound like Luke Skywalker lost on Tatooine. “I can speak English. Why the fuck do I need an English class?”

A flicker and a look came over Rhodey’s face. “You know why. If you hadn’t -.”

“If I hadn’t played around with the undergraduate computers and changed my transcripts I wouldn’t be in this situation. Just say it, Rhodey. I screwed up.” He huffed.

“You screwed up,” Rhodey said and shook his head. “It was fun while it lasted. Getting out of that undergraduate class so you could focus on your Master’s thesis at the same time you were completing all of your undergrad requirements was, well, masterful. But they caught you. Now you have to go back and take it. Just be glad they didn’t decide to completely strip you of your Bachelor’s.”

“Don’t even think that,” Tony said and tried to bite back his worries. There shouldn’t be any more issues. Everything else he’d been able to clear up or substitute some other class or lab for what he skipped over. The damned English department wouldn’t give it up. At least they were allowing him to do this stupid class instead of the Intro class they’d first insisted upon when it was discovered that he wiped out his requirements by hacking into the school’s computer grading system. He’d nearly been kicked out until they figured out that he’d just eliminated classes that weren’t pertinent to his interests – and, of course, the threat of a huge donation being taken away by his father. 

He looked at the Student Center that must have been constructed during the seventies with its top heavy concrete façade that reminded him of a mushroom. “God, I really have to do this.”

Rhodey smiled. “What are you worrying about? I’m volunteering to do it with you. It’ll be fun.” 

“Well, we are trying to slip you in under the radar,” Tony said and swooped his hand around.

Rhodey only screwed up his face and glared at him. “Don’t try and be coy. I’m in the Air Force now. I could get in trouble for pretending, you know.”

“What? You are a student here, or were. So you pretend you’re still a student. Not even all the soldiers or airmen or whatnot are students here so you’ll be okay. How bad could it be? It’s not like you’re impersonating an officer because you’d be impersonating a-.” He stopped. “A person? A student?”

Rhodey pinched the bridge of his nose and then dropped his hand. “Stop. You’re hurting yourself.” 

Tony heaved in a breath and then relaxed his too tense shoulders. “We got this, right?”

Rhodey put a hand on Tony’s shoulder and rocked it. It occurred to Tony it would probably be the last time he saw Rhodey in civies for a long time. Rhodey had signed up for the ROTC as a way to fund his degree. A lump formed in Tony’s throat and he averted his gaze. No reason to go there. He wasn’t that kind of guy. Emotions be damned. 

“Right,” Rhodey was saying and then swung Tony around to look at the mushroom Student Center. “Are we ready?”

Tony straightened himself out and drank down the last of his coffee. He should have gotten the Grande. Tossing the cup into the trash bin near the entrance to the Student Center, Tony marched up to the door alongside Rhodey. Rhodey wrapped an arm around him again and gave him a little jerk. The next few months would feel like hell once Rhodey shipped out. Well, not really shipping out to parts unknown. Rhodey would spend a good amount of time out in Colorado – probably skiing for all Tony knew – and then onto Germany. That didn’t matter because Rhodey was going to be his saving grace.

After his little hacking exercise into the university’s computers was discovered and the truth was laid bare, Tony had to come clean. It took a lot of negotiations on the part of Tony, his father, and a few of Tony’s professors (testifying mainly about his brilliance and about how forcing him out would essentially be the basis of creating a super villain). In the end, the sentence came down and Tony had to pay the price. He needed to take an undergraduate Freshman English class to fulfill requirements for his long ago awarded Bachelors in Science. 

The bogus English class he was required to take was designed around the idea that letter writing might become a lost art. The English professors created a class specifically about composition and the lost art of correspondence. Tony thought it was a crock of shit, but hell if he had to write a few letters and get this mess over with he would do it. Plus, his father threatened to cut him off from his vast wealth and Tony couldn’t have that, not at all. 

Going into the Student Center, Tony and Rhodey found their way to the room assigned for the shit show as Tony called it. It should be in one of the other buildings on campus but they (meaning the stupid English professors) decided it would be best to have it at the Strat because it would be more welcoming and friendly to everyone – especially the targets of their letters – members of the Service. 

He tugged out his phone and scrolled through the emails. “Room 407.”

“Movie room,” Rhodey said and headed in the direction. 

Tony flipped his backpack closed and hunted around to see if he could stop by and pick up another coffee before they went to the slaughter but Rhodey grabbed his arm and dragged him to the appointed room. There was a placard outside the room on a trifold that stated: _English 13B: The Lost Art of Correspondence_. 

He pointed at it. “That seems a little stuck up, right?”

Rhodey only muffled a response as Professor Nick Fury stepped out of the room. How the hell is this guy an English lit teacher at all? Or whatever they call it – Global Studies and Languages. He groaned as Rhodey chuckled. 

“You have a problem with my sign, Stark?” That one eye glowered with the power of a thousand suns exploding at once. 

Tony blinked as if blinded but managed to say, “Nope. Just wondering if we’ll be using parchment and quills, is all.”

Fury nearly popped an artery near his temple, but he quelled it and said, “Get in and go to the main table. They have the class list there. We already have the Service members seated at the desks.”

Tony eyed Rhodey, hoping he would take the signal to go and find his way to a fake table. When Rhodey continued to play oblivious, Tony only scowled and went into the room. Near the door, Tony found the table with a pile of papers and files. No computer at all. 

What the hell? Did he fall down a rabbit hole and end up in the 1980s?

At the table a young woman sat. She had bright red hair and chewed a wad of gum that probably could be used to kill. When he met her gaze, she cocked an eyebrow at him and popped a bubble. Clearly she ate men for breakfast, maybe puppies too. Sighing, he went over to the table and muttered his name.

“Oh yeah, the mighty Tony Stark.” She grinned. “Seems you are on our territory now.”

He had no idea there was a territory but he could understand it. The MIT he knew was all about engineering and science, not the soft disciplines like English and literature and whatever else might exist in the universe (at this point he wasn’t sure there was anything else). He wanted to shoot poison darts at her with his eyes but he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t kill him with her thighs.

“Territory?” he said. Why did he say it? He must have a death wish. “What’s your major? Super secret spy?”

She laughed. “Try Russian Globalization.”

What did that even mean? Rhodey was standing next to him now and asked, “That sounds like a big proposition.”

“It is. Think about it. Putin wants to reconfigure the world in the image of Mother Russia, and you techies are gonna need my help in the end when he comes for your inventions,” she said as she pointed her pen like a dagger at him. 

“So what do I have to do to get out of here? Rhodey, no, James Rhodes, is going to be my penpal.” Tony peered around the room. Multiple desks lined the area. At each desk a Service member sat across from an empty chair. Well, some weren’t empty. Some of them were already engaged with a current MIT student. Most were still waiting. It looked like some deadly game of speed dating.

“Nope,” red head said. “You are assigned to him.” She pointed across the room to a guy at the corner desk. He crunched his body into a curl as far as it would go and Tony couldn’t get a good look at him. 

“No, I’m writing to Rhodes.” Tony thumbed over his shoulder to Rhodey. “He’s my penpal.” Tony peeked at her pile of papers and then tapped on the table. “Write that down. What are you a Major? Major James Rhodes.” 

“I’m not a Major,” Rhodey whispered in his ear.

The black widow behind the table wasn’t having any of Tony’s shit. Of course, that was when Professor Fury marched up and took in the scene. “If he gives you any trouble, Natasha, you have my full permission to use one of your Russian poison darts on him.”

She snickered. “That is your assignment. His name is Steve Rogers and he’s waiting for you, Tony Stark.” She cracked her gum again and smiled with an arched brow at him. Rhodey only shrugged and whisked off into the hallway, abandoning Tony to his doom. 

For a second, Tony stood there and glowered at the doorway that Rhodey had disappeared through as if he could curse him. The real world didn’t work that way and it had been years since he toyed with role playing games (since he hacked into a server and brought the house down on a major gaming competition – that was fun). Natasha cracked her gum and pointed again.

Sighing, Tony trudged off to the table all the while noting that the man sitting there might be a Greek god or something. It would be his luck to get a lug head with a beautiful face and body. Probably a fucking homophobe to boot.

“This is a shit show, one hundred percent,” he muttered as wove through the different tables. There were his classmates – pimpled faced Freshmen UNDERGRADS all around him. Most were dutifully taking notes and talking earnestly with their soon to be pen pal. He groaned and threw a glance over his shoulder to find out if Rhodey had decided to fight the good fight and come back to his rescue. Apparently not.

He stepped up to the designated table and the soldier peered up from a sketch pad. Immediately, he stood up like he was being commanded by a drill sergeant and offered his hand to Tony. 

“Steve Rogers, US Army.” 

“What no rank and salute?” Tony snapped while the guy just frowned at him. “Well, if I’m lucky you’ll agree with me that this is a shit show and we can just agree to blow it off,” Tony said and stared at the offered hand with enough vehemence that the man dropped it and tilted his head. 

“Um, no?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

The soldier scowled and a little furrow appeared between his brows. “A statement. Yeah, a statement.”

“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself,” Tony said. “Listen, do us both a favor and follow my lead. Neither of us want to take this stupid class, so we can both decide what’s best here. I can pull off a con, can you?”

“I’m not sure you understand that I’m an active duty Service member, and therefore I must fulfill my duty with honor. I will not lie.”

Tony threw his head back and stared up at the ceiling. What the ever living fuck? After a moment to calm his nerves he looked back at the honorable Service member who also might have the best shoulder to waist ratio Tony’s ever laid eyes on in his life. “You have got to be kidding me. Don’t tell me you don’t have something better to do with your time?”

The soldier screwed up his mouth and there was no humor in his expression. “This is part of my officer program. I need this class for my field promotion. They don’t do officer promotions from enlisted like this nowadays. This is my chance, and as I understand it, you need this class, too.”

Tony chewed on his bottom lip and then took the chair in front of him, spun it around, and straddled it with his arms folded over the back. 

“Oh, we’re sitting now?” the soldier said.

“Yeah, yeah, since we have to figure this out and I think we’ve entered into negotiations, so we should sit. How about it, big guy. Wanna sit down?” Tony winked at him just to get at the soldier, under his skin. Wouldn’t that just be like a burr to this straight dick?

“Okay, yeah, thanks,” he said as he sat down. “Oh, I’m Steve Rogers.”

“I think you already said that,” Tony said as he scratched at his new beard. He just grew it out for the first time. He wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. 

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Just a little nervous,” Steve said and smiled. Tony had to admit – that was one winning smile.

“Tony Stark. I’m actually not a pimply faced freshman straight out of high school. I’m getting my doctorate.”

Steve looked around but tried not to make it too obvious. Tony almost laughed. He was cute and a little too innocent looking to be a killer. Before Steve could reply, Tony asked, “So why’d you join the army? You wanted to kill people?”

“What?! No, I didn’t-.” He gasped. “No, I didn’t want to kill people.”

“Isn’t that the purpose of the army – go out and kill people?” Tony said and happened to get a glimpse of the paper on the table. It had doodles all over it of the different people in the room. He swore that one of the sketches looked an awful lot like him.

“No, the purpose of the army is to keep the peace and defend the country and the Constitution. You ever heard of it?” Steve said and he crossed his massive arms over his equally massive chest.

“Yeah sure. Some paper in some old archive.” He leaned forward. “Listen, I’m not here to discuss history, the army, or the fact that you want to kill people as a job-.”

“I just said I don’t want to kill anyone. I don’t like bullies, no matter where they’ve from,” Steve said and his earnest expression very nearly knocked Tony off course. 

He quickly righted his thoughts and cupped his arm up over his head. He scratched at the mess of his hair before he dropped his hand and said, “I’m not here to debate your moral compass. I’m here because I have to write love letters to you so I can get some missteps squared away with my undergrad degree. You have to understand this is a little insectoid of a problem to me that’s grown into a monster one. You can either do your part and help me out, or I can hack into their computers again and get this thing cleaned up.”

“Hack into-?” Steve said and then thumped the table with his arm. “I’m not your servant, Stark, and I have my own reasons for being here. I’m trying to get a promotion which you don’t seem to understand, even though I just told you that.”

“So we have a mutual need?” Tony said. Right now, he chose to believe the lug head (is that an Army guy or a Marine – he could never remember). “It shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll send you a bulleted list of things I need to know about you. You fill them in. I’ll send you the same and we’re done. We write our paper at the end of the semester and everything’s great.”

“No.”

“No? I’m giving you the easy way out. How can you say no?” Tony shook his head and the fleeting thought of leaping over the table and screaming into this man’s face started to not be so fleeting anymore.

“Because I want to do the right thing,” Steve said. “I enlisted. Enlisted don’t get to be officers, not commissioned officers anyhow. Do you know what a commissioned officer in the US Army is, Stark? It means I have the authority in my unit. And it might not matter that much to you, but my unit, my Howling Commandoes, they want this and so do I. We’re sick of the officers we get who don’t listen and don’t care what an enlisted has to say. When this chance to get a commission popped up – well, it’s a big deal. This doesn’t happen all that often. In fact, only on the battlefield. So, no, I am not going to screw this up. I’m doing it by the book.”

Tony chewed his words, ground them up. They tasted bitter and he wanted to spit the acid of them out all over the idiot soldier. He glanced around the room again. The students at the other soldiers’ tables were dutifully taking notes, talking, discussing the assignment. When Tony looked back at his soldier (and shit, why was he thinking about this guy as his) he caught him watching the other students too. It only served to douse the flames of Tony’s anger and humiliation at having to do an undergrad assignment.

He put his hand up and said, “Okay, we can do this your way. But don’t expect big long letters. I’m not a big guy on writing or nothing like that. We can throw a few emails at each other-.”

“The course syllabus says we have to write at least three hand written snail mail letters to one another,” Steve said as flipped open his binder (lord he had a binder with colored tabs). “The rest can be email. We can even skype.” Glancing up, Steve smiled at him. 

Tony ignored the swell of heat in his chest. He had Mexican for lunch and it always gave him reflux. That must be the reason he was a little nauseous and anxiety about the whole thing. “Okay, as long as you’re not expecting Dickens. Think Hemingway.”

Steve scoffed. “I didn’t think you’d be interested in stuff like that, Stark.”

“Oh, yeah, how would you know what I’d be interested in?” Tony said as he stood, spun the chair around, and then slid into it to lounge. He did his best to look casual and little sexy. Of course, homophobic soldier didn’t pay much attention to him. 

“I looked you up,” Steve said. “When we got our assignments last week.”

Last week. Hmm. Tony didn’t remember that at all. Maybe he deleted that email. “Oh, right.”

“Did you even get my contact information or anything else?” Steve said and a little furrow appeared between his eyebrows that was both cute and frustrating as hell. Tony only stared at the furrow and kind of forgot to answer. “Well, do you have it?”

Tony spun around in the chair and glared at the red head. Did she give him the paper work or no? He patted down his pockets. “Hmm, no. She didn’t give it to me?” He felt a little out of it. 

Steve rolled his eyes and flipped through his little sketchbook. He tore out a sheet of paper and started to scribble his contact information on it. Tony shook his head and said, “What are you, uncivilized? Just give it to me. I’ll put it on my phone.”

For a second Steve hesitated and then he bobbed his head up and down like he was trying to convince himself it was the right thing to do. He told Tony his email address as well as the snail mail address. “Don’t use the snail mail address yet. Once I’m deployed, it will get updated.” 

“Deployed?”

“Yeah, I’m shipping out this weekend to Afghanistan with my unit,” Steve said and it sounded like he was describing going to the movies.

“You what? Fuck,” Tony said and gulped down anything else he had to say because Steve glared at him. That Mexican revisited his throat and it burned.

“It’s my job.”

“To kill people.”

“Are we doing this again?” Steve ground out. “My unit is assigned to a small village where the Army Corps of Engineers is building a bridge and a school. We’re helping to secure the area.” 

“Oh.” Tony dropped his head and looked at his phone. Could Rhodey just come back in and smack him in the head? Sometimes Tony needed someone to rattle his brains back in place. He muttered, “Sorry.” He scratched at the back of his neck. Looking up, he said, “I can be an ass.”

“Yeah, I figured that one out,” Steve replied, but Tony thought he glimpsed a tiny smile creep across his lips. Steve shrugged a little and added, “Don’t worry about it. Not like you know me or why I wanted to go into the service. Most people think military types are all mindless drones.”

“Point taken,” Tony said with a snap of his fingers. “Anyhow let’s get the show on the road, shall we?”

Finally, the contact information was exchanged and Tony itched to get out of there. Steve looked him up and down, studying him. For one aggravating moment, it seemed that Steve might protest, might want to force Tony to stay longer at this stupid event. Yet Steve offered him an out.

“Well, since I am shipping out soon, I need to get some things in order – if you don’t mind cutting this short?” Steve asked and though his eyes were earnest, Tony read an underlying discomfort as if hanging out with Tony for any longer was tarnishing his sensibilities. With that in mind, Tony nearly kept seated and toyed with him. “My mom isn’t well, not enough to grant me exceptional status, but enough that I worry about her all the time. I’d like to get back to New York before I ship out.”

“New York, huh?” Tony asked because something about that piqued his interest, even though he should just leave well enough alone. “I was born in New York. Manhattan. My mom and dad still have a place there.”

“We’re in Brooklyn now,” Steve said but didn’t elaborate to say what ‘now’ meant. 

Tony scanned the room, checking out the others soldiers. “You know all of these guys and girls? They part of your troop?”

“Some of them, not all,” Steve said and pointed to the farthest desk with a woman soldier. “That’s Peggy, she’s part of my unit, and that-.” He points to another desk. “That’s Sam. He’s our pararescue member. A new program for the Army, actually.”

“Nice,” Tony said and he genuinely felt it was nice and that he wouldn’t mind learning more. “She your girl?”

“What? Peggy?” Steve shook his head. “She’s an Agent in the British corps. I’m not to her level. We can’t date.”

“Rules against it?” Tony asked. When Steve hesitated to answer, Tony arched a brow. “What’s that mean? That look?”

“Means she’s not my type.” He left it at that, and Tony felt the door slam shut. The man was hiding something. Probably he was bonking the agent and didn’t want anyone to know because of the rules. Steve continued, “And I gotta go otherwise I am missing my train to New York.” He gathered up his notebook, his phone, and then shoved everything into his pack. With a quick smile, Steve said, “Take care. I’ll write you with my new address as soon as I get there.”

“Does this mean – if you’re deployed – it will take weeks to get the letters and all that? I’m not going to lose the grade in this stupid class because you’re unavailable.”

Steve only buckled his pack and swung it onto his shoulder. “This isn’t World War II, you know. You’ll get your letters, and yeah, I won’t talk about all the brutal killing I’ll be doing. Just all the ultimate fighting we do and poker games, lots of poker games.”

Tony couldn’t help himself. He giggled and said, “I don’t think you have a good poker face.”

Towering over Tony, Steve only said, “Try me.”

“I don’t trust a guy without a dark side,” Tony muttered.

While adjusting his pack on his shoulder, Steve replied, “Still early. We don’t even know one another. Maybe you just haven’t seen it yet.” He rounded the desk between them and stuck out his hand. When Tony didn’t take it, a deep red blush warmed Steve’s cheeks. He dropped his hand. “Take care, Tony. I’ll be in touch.”

Tony only nodded because somewhere along the line he lost control of the situation. As Steve walked toward the exit, Tony admitted to himself that right now he was intrigued. This was his asshat brain speaking – not reason or logic. He cursed himself. It meant that he was sufficiently interested, attracted to the project. Not the person. Not the person. 

“This Rhodey’s fault.” He flipped his phone over and tapped the icon for Rhodey. It only took one ring for him to answer. “You screwed me by bailing on me, you know.” Rhodey snickered in his ear. He thought he heard an echo in the building, so he spun around on his heel but found nothing. “This is not funny.”

“Oh yeah it is,” Rhodey said and then he appeared at the doorway to the room. 

With a glance at the other student pairs, Tony swore again and then crossed the room to meet his friend. He winked at the red head but she just snapped her gum at him. As he swept past Rhodey, Tony rolled his eyes. “Can’t believe you abandoned me.”

“Well, it will do you good to actually follow the rules once in a while. Rules are there to be followed for a reason,” Rhodey said. “You remember that one time I told you to go with me in the -.”

“The boring SUV. Yeah, I remember it,” Tony said as he sped up his stride. “I ended up in the fun SUV. It was great.” They walked across the length of the main atrium of the Stratton Student Center. He ignored a few calls from students. “What of it?”

“The fun SUV? Really? Remember how you ended up in the hospital – nearly dead because of the fun SUV?” Rhodey shook his head. “I cannot believe you sometimes.”

“Well,” Tony started as he pushed open the door. He touched the scar through his hoodie under his clavicle bone. “You got your way. I’m playing by the rules. Whatever the fuck they are. I didn’t really pick up a class syllabus-.”

Rhodey reached into his breast pocket and presented wad of papers. “Here’s your class syllabus. Read it, memorize it, eat it. I don’t care. But you do it according to the rules so I don’t have to listen to you whining about having to make up the class. A few letters and a report at the end seems easy enough.”

Tony grabbed the papers and wanted to growl at Rhodey. He glanced over the paperwork and frowned. “This is like a responsibility. You know I don’t do well with responsibilities. Maybe I can ask Pepper to write the letters.”

“No,” Rhodey said. “I already talked to her. You are not roping her into your scheme of villainy.” 

“I’m not a villain. I just play one on TV.” Tony said and pointed to the café. “I need to go back to the coffee shop. I need coffee and lots of it. I have to process this shit.”

“You are not on TV, and you don’t need any more coffee. And you do need to go. You’re supposed to meet your mentor at two, aren’t you?”

Tony peeked at his phone. “Shit, I gotta go.” He rushed away, not letting Rhodey ask any more questions. He ran past a trash can and momentarily thought about dropping the syllabus into it. As he stood there with the crumpled paper in his hand staring at the garbage, he recalled the soldier’s expression. The warmth to his coloring as he stood there defending his reasons to enlist, the idea of doing good. Carefully, he folded up the syllabus and stuffed it into his jeans’ pocket. 

 

CHAPTER 2  
“I don’t know, Sam. I think he’s gonna be a problem,” Steve said as he climbed into the troop transport. Steve spent the better part of the rest of the week with his mother in Brooklyn, visiting her before the order to ship out sent him to the installation for deployment. 

“You don’t know that,” Sam repeated. Reliable, loyal Sam always tried to find the better half of the story. They’d all been through a lot together already. This wasn’t their first deployment. Sam and Steve held a history together that firmly sat in their belief system. Steve still thought that might be one of the reasons they both signed up for the officer program. With the initiation of the program, both Bucky and Dugan encouraged Steve and Sam. 

“I do. He didn’t have the syllabus. He didn’t have any contact information. Plus he kept accusing me of joining the army because I’m some cold blooded murderer.” Steve belted in. The transport trucks were the bare bones of vehicles. No cushions and metal alloy construction – not much fun for any distance travel at all. 

“Well, aren’t you?” Bucky said.

Steve frowned at Bucky. Sometimes he thought his friend had an evil streak in him. He tended to always do the right thing but not before he flirted on the wrong side of the tracks. “I never joined the army to kill people and neither did you, Buck, so just stop.”

“I saw that little red head. She was delish-.”

Sam practically growled at Bucky and knocked him in the arm. “She’s a human being. Show some respect, boy.” 

They were all geared up. By design, they had to carry all of their belongings with them except for their footlocker. The Army was going minimalistic on this one, testing to see if modern day troops could survive and succeed with the barest essentials. Steve wasn’t happy about being one of the units being used for this new initiative, but it wasn’t like he could say no to Colonel Phillips. 

“What? She could probably crack my head open like a walnut with her thighs, I swear,” Bucky said at the same time Peggy climbed into the transport. When he saw her his cheeks flared red and he muttered an apology.

“Oh, are we doing that again, boys? Do I need to talk about that time of the month to get you to shut up?” Bucky shook his head and looked at his boots. Peggy smiled and then added, “Good then. You were saying, Steve?”

Steve licked his lips and tried to find his way back to the conversation at hand, but Peggy always set him on edge. She was confidence and beauty and on top of that a cunning woman. 

Sam jumped into save him. “Steve’s got some dud for the English class he has to take to make Captain.”

“A dud?” Peggy leaned over and stared at Steve as if it would immediately cause him to explain himself – and it did.

“Yeah, yeah, at the meet and greet we went to.” Both she and Sam were at the meeting as well. They probably didn’t get duds. “It didn’t go over well. He wasn’t interested in the class at all. Wants to pretend to do the work,” Steve said and for some reason felt the heat of embarrassment warm his face. “I should have just taken the English Lit class.”

“Yeah, Peggy could have helped out,” Dugan said and Steve only shook his head.

“Well, did you drop the class instead?” Peggy asked.

“No,” Steve answered and avoided everyone’s gaze. “After we talked he seemed okay with the whole thing. I don’t think he’ll be all that interested. I’m doomed.”

“Did the prof tell you what to do if your pen pal didn’t answer your letters?” Sam asked.

“Not really,” Steve said and cursed inwardly. He should have asked that question. He would have to deal with that once they got to the airport for the flight to Germany. It was going to take two days to get to Afghanistan. They were all cleared for deployment, but they still had to go through processing in Germany. “I’ll try and call him in Germany – find out what’s going on.”

“Well, give the guy a chance first,” Sam said. “He might surprise you.” He lifted his chin and pointed at Steve’s breast pocket. “Text him. See if he answers.”

“Text?” Steve didn’t think it was a good idea and he sure as hell wasn’t going to text this guy in front of everyone. All he needed to do was to become the source of entertainment for the troops. How would a team leader maintain any modicum of respect and order then? Plus technically once they were deployed they weren’t allowed to text. “I’ll wait.” He wanted to drop the subject – he really shouldn’t have brought it up in the first place.

The transport started and the whole vehicle swayed, their bodies moving in unison. He hoped that with motion, the subject be forgotten but it wasn’t. Bucky was the one who kept the door open. “So, did you tell Sam who you got?”

“No.” Steve glared at Bucky hoping that by sheer will power alone his friend would clamp it. His powers of mental telepathy really sucked because the next thing he knew all of the soldiers in his unit were focused on him. Maybe Sam and Peggy didn’t even notice who he ended up getting assigned. With a sigh, he said, “Stark. I got Tony Stark.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh – the same as he did the afternoon Steve first told him. “Oh, punk, you are gonna have a wild ride with that one.”

“That’s nice. That’s real nice, you jerk.”

“Tony Stark is an interesting character. You’ll probably have a good time writing to him,” Sam said. He was projecting all kinds of adult vibes but the truth of the matter was that no amount of adulting was going to stop the fact that Stark was a known celebrity. His father’s company had the vast majority of defense contracts. That didn’t stop Tony Stark from announcing last year that his intention to shift the company’s focus to clean energy. The Starks were in the midst of an internal struggle that blasted the front pages of the media. While Howard Stark wasn’t disowning his only child, it was clear that they weren’t on the best terms. Rumors flew that Maria, Tony’s mother, kept the family together. Steve thought that maybe there was more to it. Maybe Stark senior really did care for his son and it was just a struggle for the stockholders and the board of directors.

“I don’t see it. We have nothing in common,” Steve said. They might both come from New York, but Steve’s family barely rubbed together two dimes, while Tony clutched that silver spoon. 

“Surely, you can find common ground, Steve,” Peggy said and everyone shut up. There was too much respect in the unit for Peggy Carter to interrupt her or to even contradict her.

“Maybe, yes,” Steve said and hoped it would be the end of it. He still didn’t know why she was taking the course, since she was already commissioned in the British Corps. But she had her reasons and her own promotion path so he couldn’t ask. Peggy must have read his mind because she moved the conversation to their mission. All the soldiers in the unit, the Howling Commandoes, chipped in ideas about their deployment – the security of the area so that the bridge and the school would be a success. 

When they arrived at the air base, they were shuffled off for final processing before boarding the plane for travel to Europe. Most of the Commandoes went to eat, but Steve found a quiet corner and dug out his phone. 

_Just testing_

There. At least he sent a text and could say he tried. He’d always been one of those kids in class anxious about getting the assignment done. Even with a group assignment, he usually ended up taking on the burden of the work because he feared someone would drop the ball. Joining the service actually helped him to trust others and allow his fellow soldiers to do their jobs without him constantly peering over their shoulders. It wasn’t an easy transition. Still, he wanted to do good – no – well in this class. He rubbed at his eyes as he sat with his back against a cinder block wall. His pack sat next to him and he rested his arms on his bent knees.

His phone chirped. He twisted it around and stared at the answer.

_Are you testing the phone or whether or not I would answer?_

Steve smiled. Tony was a smart ass – kind of reminded Steve of Bucky in a way. He raised his brow as he tried to figure out an answer. The air base was all hustle and bustle around him. Usually most transports would be on civilian airlines but since they were going to an air base directly in Germany and they would be transporting materials to the site in Afghanistan it was decided they would fly from Dover Air Force Base. He would rather go civilian; it was always more comfortable and less stress but he wasn’t in charge of logistics. They would fly to Ramstein Air Force base in Landstuhl Germany. It would be a direct flight – they would stay the night there, do final deployment processing and then end up in Afghanistan the next night with ground transport to Kandahar Province. There, they would be going to a remote area of the province to assist in the rebuilding of the country after it had been savaged by the Taliban rule.

His phone chirped again. 

_Go on tell me it was me. I can take it, big guy._

Steve smiled and typed. _It was you, and me. I don’t know what to even say to you. We’re pretty different._

_Ah but we are pretty. Strike that – don’t want to get your manliness flustered._

Steve frowned at the phone for a minute before he answered. _My manliness does not get flustered that easily, Stark. Try again._

_Sassy. I like that._

_I have a feeling I could never out sass you_ Steve returned and felt pleasantly surprised at how the conversation seemed completely removed from their last encounter. _I’ll be able to send you my snail mail address in a few days. After that no texts._

After several minutes with no response, Steve stared at his phone and checked the signal. All was fine. He furrowed his brows. No text. He scrolled back and read all of the text messages again, just to be sure he didn’t outright insult the guy. There was nothing there that Steve could pick out. He shrugged, sent a quick message to his mother, and then stuffed the phone back in his pocket. It was going to be a long flight and he should go and get some food. 

They loaded up the plane shortly before midnight. The troops included both Steve’s unit team. They considered themselves an elite strike force with visions of being like the Navy Seals. They’d tried to recruit Steve at one point, and he weighed switching over to their command unit, but eventually passed on the opportunity. He wasn’t sure if Rumlow would ever forgive him. As they boarded, Rumlow sneered a smile at him and shook his head. 

“Going babysitting I see, Rogers,” Rumlow said.

Steve kept quiet as he counted his people and made sure all of the supplies were packed in to their proper holding spaces. 

“You could have had it all. The fame, the power, the pussy-.”

Spinning around, Steve grabbed Rumlow by the neck and slammed him against the fuselage. “I think you better reconsider how you talk about your fellow soldiers, Rumlow.”

He put his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry.” 

Steve dropped him and tried to ignore the thrum of his heart in his ears. All of the strike team and the Commandoes watched them. 

“Didn’t mean to insult your delicate disposition, Rogers. I know how you’re not all that interest-.”

Steve hissed at Rumlow. “Think very carefully about what you are doing to say next, Brock.” Bucky was suddenly standing at his side as was Sam. Both there to back up their unit leader, both there to take the fall if they had to. “No need, Bucky. Right, Rumlow? No need at all.”

Rumlow twisted his mouth into a frown, but he straightened his shoulders and tried to smooth over the altercation. “Nothing. No need. Just joking around with our new Field Captain – that’s all. That’s all brothers and sisters. Right.” He looked around the cabin. “We’re all brothers and sisters here.”

Steve didn’t say anything, just let Rumlow leave. Bucky panted in Steve’s ear like a fighting dog on a leash. Sam only assessed the situation and nodded short and curt. Steve gestured for both of them to take their seats. They did with Steve following. The rest of the flight, the Commandoes and the Strike Team re-enacted the Cold War – as Bucky put it – for shits and giggles. It was not fun.

When they finally disembarked in Germany and found their way to their temporary barracks for the night, Steve was glad to hear that the Strike Team would be taking separate transport to Afghanistan. The Howling Commandoes would arrive in Kandahar Province and then ship out over ground the same day. They were wheels up at 0400. He got no sleep. 

At 0300 his phone chirped. _I wrote my love letter. Just waiting for the address_

Steve snickered and tapped back. _I hope it isn’t a Dear John letter_

_It’s a love letter so of course it is all about science_

Steve laughed and rolled over on his cot. The rest of his unit slept and he laid there with his eyes open, staring at the blue tinted screen, unreasonably happy that his student assignment just might work out. He typed out his address for Tony. They’d gotten their final assignment this afternoon after the processing. 

_Are you scared?_

It was a strange non sequitur but also reasonable at the same time. Civilians thought that soldiers deploying always meant that the service members would be placed in harm’s way. That scenario happened, of course, but not all of the time. Deployment didn’t mean to an active war zone and, while Kandahar had been fairly active, over the last few months it had settled down and become less of a war zone and transformed into more of a reconstruction zone. He and his unit were actually excited about being in a place that would leave a lasting impression on the citizens of the country that didn’t consist of bombed out buildings and orphans and widows. 

_Not really. Excited to help._ Didn’t that read so cliché. But he added, _Meeting with the village elders about the school and what they need us to do soon after arrival._

 _Okay, Captain America. I got to get back to my lab. Safe travels_.

Steve curled up on the cot with his phone clutched in his hand, trying not to think about the fact that he liked having a nickname given to him by Tony Stark. At 0400 his day began and after a big breakfast and a lot of goofing around with the other Commandoes they were ready to ship off to Afghanistan. He bought some stationary paper and envelopes from the PX and stuffed them into his bag. Sam watched him but said nothing. Bucky only chuckled. Peggy slapped him on the shoulder and told him she was rooting for him to make the grade. He hadn’t asked about their assignments. He kept mum because he didn’t want to elaborate on his own. 

While they were all calling him Captain, it was only a temporary thing really – once he finished his last class, the new Army promotion program would review his portfolio and his file and decide if they would give him the final field promotion to Captain. 

They loaded onto the plane, saying goodbye to a Europe they barely even saw, and flew to Afghanistan. Once in Kandahar, they loaded up transport trucks and headed toward the southern portion of the province where the country bordered Pakistan and the tensions never let up. Even though the area they would be in had quieted, they had no delusions that they would be completely safe. No one joked as they moved out, and the Strike Team ended up joining them in the convoy. Steve didn’t ask what their mission was; he truly didn’t want to know. Right now, he and his ground troops had a mission of their own to focus on. They rounded up a local interpreter and set out before the sun set. 

It was a long haul over rocky terrain. Most of the soldiers tried to doze as they made their way toward the small village they were assigned. Steve dug out his paper and pen. He used his sketchpad as a makeshift desk and scribbled out his first few lines to Tony.

 _Dear Tony,_  
That sounds weird. Do you want me to start the letters out with dear? I mean I should start it out with something, right? I’m not sure. Okay, how about: Hi, Tony. Yeah, that sounds better so how about I start that out right. 

 

He stared at the letter in the dying light and then ended up tearing it up and leaning his head back against the truck. Peggy was sitting close to him and she smiled.

“No luck?”

“I’m not a writer. I like to draw, but I never really got into writing anything.”

She smiled and he wondered if she kept a stick of the reddest lipstick in her supply sack. “My mother had us write to our father all the time. He was with the diplomat corps and sometimes we wouldn’t see him for months at a time. “

“You must have gotten a lot of practice,” Steve said.

“Mostly I just liked it because my mother would buy all kinds of pretty stationary paper.” She smiled. While Peggy always personified the most feminine attributes, he never really saw her as a girly girl. “Anyhow, let me help, if I can?”

“Sure, anything.” Steve took out his notebook so that he could jot down some notes.

“First off, the worst thing you could do when writing a letter to a person you don’t know is by starting it out with: you don’t know me but.” She shook her head. “Try something different. Start out like you want to grab their attention.”

“Like how? I mean what should I say? How should I even start it out?” Steve asked.

“Well, how would you start it out if you had a conversation with him in person?” The rock of the truck nearly sent them pitching toward the floor, but the steadied each other by bracing against the high sides of the Humvee. 

“I guess I’d say hi, what’s up? Maybe tell him about what’s going on with me?”

“So, those are some of the elements you use,” Peggy said with a shrug. “Of course you can’t write a letter like the person is right there in front of you, because you don’t get the responses. But it’s nice to write a little more introspective and then ask some pointed questions to get to know the person better.”

Considering her advice, he nodded. “Yeah, I think I got it. Okay. I’ll give it a go.”

The Humvee bounced and rolled as they moved deeper into the province. “You might want to wait it out until we get to the village. Seems like the place needs more than just a bridge. A road would be good, too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Peggy.”

She squeezed his hand and then shifted her seat to sit next to Gabe. They started a card game almost immediately. Steve scribbled down some notes. He’d wait until he got settled at the base. Maybe he could talk a little about his day to day life, what he liked about being in the army. Maybe he could teach Tony a little more about it. Spread the word that it wasn’t always about defending or killing. In fact, most of it wasn’t about that at all. 

Instead of writing the letter, he slept part of the way, played cards with Sam and Bucky another part of the way, and argued with Rumlow and his Strike Team the rest of the way. By the time they arrived, everyone was tired and dusty from the road, but the villagers greeted them with excitement and the Army Corps of Engineers hurried them to the camp. The village was one of the smallest that Steve had ever seen in the country. The Strike Team only briefly greeted the elders and then left for the mountains in the southern part of the province. Steve couldn’t let it bother him that the Strike Team was setting up stakes in the middle of territory he’d been tasked to protect. He focused on his immediate tasks: getting his team embedded with the camp and the village, talking to the village elders about the bridge and the school, as well as any other needs to shore up the safety of the town so that remnants of the Taliban didn’t infiltrate the area or region. 

It would be two weeks before he even thought about the letter again. By that time the camp ringed the village, giving protection to the small grouping of residents and shops and the market while at the same time keeping a watchful eye on the engineers constructing the bridge over the muddy waters of the small tributaries of the Tarnak River. He set up different watches and checkpoints so that not only were the Corps defended but the villagers were as well. The elders talked constantly about opportunities and the school for the children. So, Steve put some of the unit to work on helping build the school as well. By the time he remembered his assignment from his English class, he had a letter from Tony in his hand and a welling of guilt in his gut.

He went to the mess in the middle of the day to get some coffee and to read the letter. 

_Dear Captain_ , or Steve, or whatever I am supposed to call you. What am I supposed to call you again? And dear sounds weird. Like we’re from the 19th century and are two lovers writing lonely heart letters to one another. So, let’s start that again.

Yo Stevie boy, how you doing? Ha! That’s so not right, but whatever. Anyhow I wanted to say sorry we got off on the wrong foot. I promise to be better. I just didn’t want the hassle of this class but it’s my own damned fault for trying to cheat my way out of it. I learned my lesson (kind of, well not really). So I wanted to try and get on the right footing, mainly because my friend Rhodey (he’s in the Air Force) threatened me with bodily harm if I didn’t respect the uniform and also threatened to call me Tony Stank for the rest of my natural life (apparently I am going to have an unnatural life too, Yippee. I wonder if it will be a zombie or a vampire. Which would you like to be, a zombie or a vampire?). So under threat of horrible consequences and feeling crappy about the way I treated you, I hereby start this letter writing journey. 

I’m not much of a writer, Stevie-boy. So you have to give me some slack. Like can you do Skype or something over there? You said you couldn’t really text once you got over there. I talked to the Red Headed Assassin and she said we could do some skype or video chat or whatever as long as we learn about one another and are able to put together a decent report at the end of the semester. She’s apparently Fury’s teaching assistant. That man is a nutcase. I think the patch is fake by the way. I swear I saw him giving me the stink eye the other day. So, can you find out if we can do the skype thing? This way you can see this beautiful face of mine and I can look at dust and sand a lot. Is there dust and sand? I am assuming not. I mean they grow a lot of poppies in Afghanistan, right? There must be some water somewhere?

Anyhow if you get the skype set up, I can show you around my lab. As I said I am not a typical undergrad (not really an undergrad at all). I am actually a doctoral student. I am working on a new type of clean energy. I’m using a very rare metal and bringing it to an excitation state where it emits what I am calling vitarays. Sounds all scifi, right? Anyhow, you get that skype running I can give you a tour. It’ll be fun. 

I promise to not hit on you too much. I know you Army guys are not all that keen on gay people. I won’t talk about it, but I want you to know that’s who you are dealing with. I don’t want any trouble, but I also don’t want to be insulted or anything. 

Phew – glad I got that off my chest. Rhodey told me to not say anything but, you know, it’s a big part of who I am, my identity. You gotta know about it, or you don’t know me at all.

Well, that’s it for now. I guess that’s it. I could go into more about my parties, the craziness, but that sounds weird or like I’m showing off. Hey, by the way can you do email?

Well, take care and don’t get yourself blown up. (That’s probably rude. I think Rhodey would tell me that’s rude – ignore that last part, okay?)

_Tony_

“What are you smiling at?” Bucky said as he slid his metal tray on the table across from Steve. “What are you reading?” He plucked the letter out of Steve’s hand.

“Hey, that’s mine.” Steve reached for it but Bucky swung it away from him.

Snickering, Bucky skimmed the letter. “Oh it’s your boyfriend.”

“Bucky, don’t.” Standing, he ripped the letter out of his friend’s hand. “You know how I feel about that.”

“What? That you came out to the whole crew but never dated at all. I don’t know whether or not it’s because you can’t find your type or you really don’t know your orientation.” Bucky dug into the meatloaf and potatoes. “No one cares you know. Not me, not Sam, not even Peggy and she might have had a crush on you. No one cares.”

“I know,” Steve said. He paused before he added, “Tony’s gay.”

“Well, then maybe it is a match made in heaven,” Bucky laughed. 

“I don’t think so. This is a rambling mess of a stream of consciousness.” Steve folded up the letter and carefully tucked it in his pocket, none of which was lost to his friend.

“Uh huh,” Bucky said and grabbed Steve’s coffee. He downed it in one gulp. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“What? I didn’t say anything.”

Bucky winked at him. “You didn’t have to, pal. You didn’t have to.” 

CHAPTER 3  
Tony laid down in the middle of the lab, staring up at the ceiling of pipes and water stained tiles. He did his best work down here. As he gazed up at the network of pipes, he tried to find his way through the maze of his project. The excitation state of the core kept failing on him, even though he utilized the rarest of metals, vibranium, as the core for his arc reactor. He needed the excitation and then the release of energy to somehow break the rules of physics in order to show any hope of being useful in producing energy. As he followed the pattern of the pipes, he listened to the high-pitched screech of guitars from his music blasting in the lab. It might be two in the afternoon or in the morning. He really didn’t know. If he didn’t figure out this issue, then the whole theory of vitarays and vibranium and the arc reactor was for nothing and he would have to start his damned thesis project over again. His father – Howard the Jerk – would force him to go back into weapons design and his life would be over. 

He frowned as ran his gaze along the ceiling tiles, counting the number of stains. This wasn’t going well. He was hitting the wall in terms of creativity. He needed to buck up and figure out what the hell to do next, how to tackle this project.

“May I ask, what you are doing, my friend?”

He strained to look behind him, arching his neck to see T’Challa standing at the entrance to his lab. The man was a maniac and a super genius or something. He came from one of the most technologically advanced countries in the world, and was spending a year in the States, training at MIT. Tony thought that maybe he wasn’t training as much as observing. Sometimes he felt like the proverbial rat in a maze.

“I’m considering the motion of the universe.”

T’Challa eyed him but didn’t comment on his inane statement. Instead he went to his side of the laboratory and plopped his backpack onto the desk in the corner of the room. “You are a very confusing gentleman. When I came to America, I was thrilled I might be working with you. Now I think you may need more than coffee to keep your sanity.” Then he did the ultimate transgression – he turned off the music. “Your brain is filled with noise.”

“Your brain doesn’t have enough noise in it to recognize the signal, my friend,” Tony said and climbed to his feet. And yes, his feet were bare in lab. He understood the implications. He also understood the implications of melting mercury in a chemical hood that didn’t work. But he needed the damned crap for his arc reactor. So what if he turned into a mad hatter?

T’Challa chuckled as Tony swung around the lab bench and then reclined against the fume hood. “I’m stuck and I need something to do.”

“It is the middle of the night, my friend. And it is the middle of the week. You cannot find yourself a frat party as you call it tonight.”

“Ye have little faith,” Tony said and as he did his computer pinged across the room. He hoped to hell it was his simulations of the excitation site and how he might figure out a catalyst to bump up the reaction time. As he walked over there, the computer pinged again but this time he recognized it. It was his alert that he had someone requesting to skype with him. Tony clapped. It might be Rhodey. He hadn’t heard from his friend in over a week. The man was tooling around Germany or something. It was nearing October, so what a time to be in Germany. Maybe Tony could swing a flight and they could welcome Octoberfest together.

But no it wasn’t Rhodey at all.

“Huh.”

“A problem?” T’Challa asked. 

Tony looked over his shoulder at his lab mate through the glassware laden shelving and shook his head. “No, just – can I take this privately?”

T’Challa frowned, but after a quick second, nodded and scooped up his pack to leave the room. “If you’re interested, I’m going to the café for late night coffee.”

“Maybe later. Thanks.” Tony waited for T’Challa to leave the laboratory until he actually answered the call. His heart rammed against his sternum so hard he could barely catch his breath. He wasn’t sure why the hell the idea of a skype call from Afghanistan threw him into a teenaged panic attack. 

The screen cut in and the soldier he met a few weeks ago appeared. His face was too close to the camera for an instant but then he settled back and smiled at Tony, waving to him. “Hey, hope you don’t mind me calling you now.”

“Um, no, I don’t. I mean, I didn’t even know you could?” Tony said as he slid a stool over to sit down.

“Took a few days to figure out and my friend, Peggy, let me use her station to call you. I don’t actually have a computer here. I got my phone, but it doesn’t get great signal.” He screwed up his face as if he knew that didn’t explain everything. “I hope that’s okay?”

“Um, yeah, sure,” Tony said and realized how he must sound like an ass. “So, hmm, I think you got my letter then?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure did. I think you can call me Steve. That’s fine. I don’t think this is supposed to be about my rank or anything,” Steve said. He sat back with his arms folded in front of him on the table. Tony couldn’t see much behind him. It looked fairly dark.

“So, where are you? Other than Afghanistan, or can’t you tell me because you’d have to kill me or something like that?” Tony asked. He itched and stretched at his shoulders. How do you talk to someone you just don’t know at all?

“Yeah, I’m in Afghanistan, in Kandahar Province. We’re in a small village. It isn’t much more than what we’d call a one traffic signal town back home. But they don’t have much in the way of electricity out here.” He looked behind him and then realized how that didn’t make any sense. “Some places have generators. We’re on generators and have things rigged up on a mobile van. It’s five thirty in the morning here. It’s really the only time I could get to send any type of non-official message.”

“Wow, I’m honored that you’d think of me.” Tony felt vaguely guilty since he’s the one who suggested using skype instead of the insane idea of snail mail. “You should have called your mom. How is she, by the way?”

“As good as can be expected,” Steve answered. His demeanor deflated a degree but he gathered his emotions, quieted them, and then steered his way back to their conversation. “Thanks for asking. I talked to her a little while ago.”

“Crap, how early did you get up?”

“About 4:30,” he said and shrugged. “I’m not usually up this early but I did want to check on Ma, and then I figured I’d give you a call, too.” He smiled and what it did to Tony should be declared illegal. 

Tony bowed his head so he wouldn’t blush into the camera. “So, hmm.” Still he didn’t know how to deal with talking to someone he hardly knew. He had to admit, the stream of consciousness letter writing was a helluva lot easier. “You want to see my lab?”

Steve nodded and seemed genuinely excited about it. “Yeah, you said something about that in your letter. You’re a scientist?”

“Engineer, really. Doctoral student like I said, and all that crap, you know.”

“You must think I’m like some lunk head or something,” Steve said and curled his arms around his chest. 

That was closing off, even Tony could read that easily enough. He needed to reach out and save this fast. “Okay, hmm, not okay. I don’t think you’re a lunk head or whatever the hell that is. I don’t even know you. Rhodey told me I shouldn’t judge, so let’s go with that. Okay?” Steve tilted his head as he studied Tony. Something about it ingratiated him in Tony’s mind, like he was slowly trying to figure Tony out. Tony couldn’t help it. He grinned. 

“I’d love to see your lab, but take it slow for the undergrad in the room.”

Tony picked up his laptop and said, “Okay. I want to show you the fume hood. It’s not NASA and rockets, but I can show you the working model of the arc reactor- not really the arc reactor itself but the core.” He walked over to the hood. 

“Wait, wait, let’s walk it back. What’s a fume hood?” Steve asked.

“Ah, so glad you asked, grasshopper. It’s workbench area in a glass box, which probably tells you just about nothing. Here – see this.” Tony turned the laptop around so the camera could view the ventilation cabinet with its workbench area and glass screened sash. “It vents the air through the duct system that clears it so that it can be exhausted to the outside air. It is filtered and cleaned before it is released. Most of the time you use this when working with chemicals that are dangerous. I have a few dangerous chemicals, but mostly I’m using it as a way to protect my creation.”

“You sound a little like Doctor Frankenstein,” Steve said with a giggle in his voice.

“Are you laughing at me, Captain America?” It felt too easy to talk to him now and as they continued and Tony explained his theories, Steve didn’t only play along, he asked intelligent, thoughtful questions. Before Tony knew it, he was sitting on the floor gabbing about the issues he was having with his arc reactor theory and the excitation of the vibranium. 

“I can’t even imagine. How do you think of all this stuff?” Steve said and he leaned in close to the camera. “You must have some kind of brain. I don’t think I ever met anyone that can make such leaps like you can.” He stopped as if he was listening to something on his end that Tony couldn’t hear. “I gotta go. O-six hundred. It was great talking to you, Tony. I can’t text but I can send you an email. Talk to you soon?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said. He should be happy that this interruption, this distraction was finally done. Yet, he had to admit he felt disappointed that he had to say goodbye already. “Take care, okay?”

Steve smiled. “You too. Do all the genius stuff, okay?”

Tony only snickered as the line cut off. He sat there staring at the screen, thinking of the last half hour and how it became so effortless. This might not be as bad as Tony had feared. A few skype sessions, some emails, a few letters – and then he would write up the report. Simple, easy. It wouldn’t take too much time out of his research. He closed up the laptop and went back to the fume hood, checking off the last of his experiments. He needed to recalibrate to do the next round when a knock on the door drew his attention away.

“Tony?”

He spun on his heel and smiled. “Hey, Pepper.”

“Do you want to get out of here?” Pepper asked. She always looked gorgeous and tonight wasn’t any exception. She had her hair up in a ponytail and a white shirt and jeans. Over that she wore a school jacket. She carried a leather messenger bag. It wasn’t Coach or any type of purse but an honest to goodness messenger bag. “You busy?”

“Just recalibrating, but I don’t need to do it tonight. T’Challa was going to go out to the café for coffee.” He shoved on his shoes and then gathered up his phone and his lap top. Zipping his backpack closed, he added, “Is that what you had in mind?”

“Not really, but if that’s what you want?” 

When he turned to really look at her, he saw that she most obviously had been visibly upset but was trying to cover it up now. He never made a great therapist but he knew when she needed someone to just hang out with and listen to her. “We could go get ice cream and paint each other’s nails.”

He managed to elicit a smile and a slight giggle from her. “You don’t have to.”

Rolling his eyes, he offered her his arm and she took it. “Nope, I don’t. But heck I was thinking a nice shade of pink might perk things up a little. Do you have any of those sparkly ones?” He led her out of the lab, hitting the light switch, and then locking the door as they left. 

By the time they made it back to his loft apartment, Pepper turned back into her normal self, which meant grumbling at him. She liked to try and manage his life, though at times he had to admit to liking her to do so. It seemed easier than having to waste all the effort on trying to figure out grocery lists and dental appointments. Long ago, he asked her to share the loft apartment and she agreed. She had a large section of it to the west side of the floor. Partial walls kept her space separate from his, but they shared a kitchen and the sitting room that she referred to as a lounge as if they were both from Europe or something. His section was to the east and classified in her book as a disaster. He built one wall out of Legos and laughed all the time about it. But hell, it worked! The rest of the walls of his bedroom and private work area were constructed out of anything he found on the street. Broken metal pieces of trash cans and car parts were welded together and then joined to wooden crates to form not only walls but storage areas as well. He liked it; she thought he was nuts.

Thus the reason, they sat in the middle of her giant king sized bed eating ice cream while she painted Tony’s toe nails. 

“I thought he would be nice, you know,” she said and growled when Tony snatched her Cherry Garcia ice cream. 

“I want some.” Tony eyed her but she settled back and continued to paint his nails. “Killian was an ass? I told you he would be.”

“He seemed so sane and nice. But then he started on his tirade about how the British made China great and how he was going to start some company about the Mandarin. I wasn’t sure if he was talking about the language or the oranges.” She shrugged. “Seemed nice but a complete idiot and racist.”

“I told you not to date him. He’s unhinged,” Tony said and dug into the ice cream.

“Like you have a good dating record. You dated Justin Hammer.” She grimaced. “He’s disgusting.”

“He is. And he has the littlest dick I’ve ever seen,” Tony said and she giggled. “Little tiny pickle. That’s what I called him, you know. Pickle dick.” 

She jerked as she laughed and painted his foot. “God, now look what you made me do?” 

He lifted his foot and assessed it. Sparkling pink nail polish went up his foot. “Nice.” 

“You’re ridiculous.” She said and pulled his foot back down. Using some nail polish remover, she cleaned up his foot. “So you broke up with him, I assume.”

“Ages ago,” Tony said as he cleaned out the carton, licking the spoon. “I’m pretty much in a drought. T’Challa isn’t into guys and neither is Rhodey. You should date Rhodey. He likes you. Or Happy.”

“Your father’s driver?” Pepper gagged. “I don’t think so, what is he like ancient? Like forty or something?” 

Tony chuckled, but he did know that Happy had a crush on Pepper. “He’s like a cowboy, sun aged. He’s like thirty or something. Not too old. And so he might know how to treat a girl.”

“I am not going out with an old man,” Pepper said and started to clean up. “You’re finished and you ate all the ice cream. You’re going to be sick tomorrow.”

Tony rested back onto the pillows and groaned. “Come over here and rub my belly. It hurts.”

“I am not rubbing your belly. Don’t you have a new guy in the wings?” She jumped up off the bed, her bathrobe trailing behind her. She had on her yoga pants and t-shirt with a silken robe. She looked divine. “Some sweet hottie?”

He frowned. Sweet hottie. He couldn’t help it that his mind instantly went to his pen pal. But then Steve was off limits. Those Army types didn’t like the gays. Tony didn’t care what the hell the policy was these days. He lifted a shoulder as he laid a hand on his swollen gut. “Lordy, I ate too much.”

“That’s what you get for eating all of my Cherry Garcia. That stuff is gold,” Pepper said as she went into her bathroom to put away her supplies. She peeked out. “No hottie?”

He shook his head. “I have to focus on my research anyhow. Do you know I have to write to some Army rat for the next few months?” He sighed. “Be glad when it is over in December.”

“Not over in December,” Pepper yelled back.

“Yeah it is,” Tony said and wiggled his toes, some of the cotton balls fell out. 

“Nope,” Pepper said and came out with a brush. She kneed onto the bed and started to brush his hair. Sometimes he felt like her dress up doll. “You never read the syllabus. That one is a special case. It finishes next semester. Mid-semester.”

He sat up, knocking her away. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah, it’s a special case because of the snail mail and all that. I think it finishes in March or something.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Tony said and now he didn’t feel anything for hottie Army guy. Now he just resented the hell out of him. “Son of a bitch.” 

She swatted him on the head with the brush – not too hard. But he collapsed and sat back down. “It’s not a big deal. You just write some letters. Keep everything, and I will help you with the final report.”

“I love you, Pepper.” He blinked his eyes at her and she only rolled hers in response. The reality sank in though and he released a breath. “It means I’m saddled with Army guy for months.”

“Yeah, well, you only have to send a message now and again. Read his. It’s not a big deal.”

He didn’t confess that he spent a good half hour talking to Army guy tonight. “Captain America is all righteous and probably likes to kill people in his free time.”

“Is that what he said?” she asked as she started to comb his hair in the wrong direction. When he tried to stop her, she only batted his hand away.

“No, killers don’t confess that they like to kill people. Do they?” He glanced at her and she only gave him a puzzled look. “I don’t know. Why couldn’t I take some other English class?” Or better yet, change the grade again – he didn’t say that out loud.

“Don’t even,” she muttered like she could read his mind. 

“It would be easier,” he said and stuck his hands in his hair to mess it up again, just to irk her. She slapped him, but it didn’t hurt. “So much easier than babysitting Captain America.”

“Be nice. He’s serving his country. He’s protecting you.” 

“How is he protecting me when he’s in Afghanistan?” Tony said and bent his knees to start taking the cotton from between his toes. He popped them out but didn’t know what to do with them. He didn’t want to get the polish on her duvet cover. 

“Don’t start with that again, Tony. You know enough about geopolitics to know that regional instability puts the whole world at risk.” She dropped the brush and scooped up the cotton from him and then surveyed her work on his toes. “You need a touch up.”

“You need to stop being so bossy,” Tony said and knew she was right. She was a poli-sci student after all. She might be an undergrad but she was worlds smarter than people gave her credit for – even Tony. “When I take over my dad’s company, will you come and work for me?”

She got off the bed and groused. “Good lord, no way. Working for you would be like deciding to set up shop in the middle of a tornado. You are a disaster waiting to happen. Or already happening.”

He scrubbed his hands through his hair and got off the bed. “Well, just in case you wanted to know. You have a job with me. Anytime.”

After she deposited the trash in the can in the bathroom, she came back and pecked him on cheek. “Thank you. And thank you for talking to me. Killian is a beast. And I won’t be going out with him again.”

“Good,” he said. “Kisses?” 

She pecked him again and then shooed him out of her section of the loft. He went without protest. He had enough to do and it was nearly one in the morning. He would sleep for a few hours and then go back to lab. Too much ice cream made him tired. He fell into bed and went to sleep without a peep for the next seven hours. Tumbling out of bed, he found his way to the shower (thank God for hot water) and coffee (thank Mother Nature for the coffee bean) and lab. He didn’t actually know how long he spent in the lab until Pepper came by and muttered at him about leaving her alone for days and days.

“What?”

“Nothing, I thought you might like to know you got mail.” She dropped the letter on his workbench and then smiled. It was from Afghanistan. He stared at it and then looked up at her.

“What?”

“Gonna read it?” She waited with her elbow cotched on the bench and her chin in her hand. She had her hair up in that ponytail again and it swung a little as she waited. 

“Not right now. Go away, you siren.” He gestured for her to leave. “I have work to do.”

“You’ve been here for two days. And you’ve been eating far too many skittles. Come out to dinner with me and read the letter.” She winked at him and smiled.

“You just want a free meal. How about I meet you back at the loft and you order pizza?” He shoved the letter in his backpack. He was not going to read it in front of her. Not at all. “Go order pizza. Order cake. I don’t care.”

“I care,” she said and looked expectantly at him as she eyed the backpack.

“I am not going to read my English assignment to you.” He picked up a wrench. He really didn’t need the wrench since he was actually just coding right now. “I have things to do.” He could put the smooths on her but that never worked with Pepper. She saw right through him and she also knew his orientation, so that would never fly.

“Okay,” she relented. “But you’re not going to forget about me? I’m not going to end up with five pies and no Tony?”

“Call Thor. He likes pizza,” Tony said and went back to the computer. He focused on it, pretending he wasn’t just trying to get her to leave. But then his radar perked up and he recalled her bad run in with Killian. He glanced up at her and said, “Is Killian bothering you? I could pay Thor to beat on him, you know.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Nope, no issue with Killian. He’s off the table. Completely. Apparently he got the boot. Expelled or something.”

“Oh,” Tony said and his curiosity almost did him in. He squashed it down and turned the conversation back to their plans. “What time is it?” Looking at the computer he said, “It’s eight. I’ll be back by nine-thirty, I swear it.”

She considered him, her mouth turning into a twisted frown but she gave in.  
“Okay, okay. I might call Natasha, just so you know.”

“God, no, please don’t.” He did not want that assassin of Fury’s to be hanging around in his loft. Imagining her walking around and looking at his stuff might just give him a heart attack. How Pepper became friends with Fury’s teaching assistant was still unknown to Tony. Not her.”

“Well, if you’re not going to show up, I need some company,” Pepper said. She strolled away from him and he considered racing after her, but he knew that was what she was after. He wasn’t going to have curlers in his hair tonight. 

“I’ll get there when I get there. Invite your friend, see if I care,” he said and stared at the lines of code. He tried not to throw a sidelong glance at her, but she lingered for a bit before she finally gave up and decided his will was steel or metal alloy – yeah, that would be better. When she finally left the lab, he relaxed and grabbed another bag of skittles as he pulled the letter out of his backpack. 

He checked the postmark to see that the letter was mailed before their skype conversation. It would be weird to read it now, wouldn’t it? But no, he should read it. The letter itself was an integral part of the assignment. He should start a spreadsheet of shit that Captain America told him so he could write the damned report easily. 

He opened up his personal laptop after dragging it out of his bag. He started a spreadsheet and labeled the columns – Food – clothes – sports – killings – army shit – weird stuff – macho crap – # times cute ass seen. That seemed about right. 

The letter had nothing to do with cute asses. 

_Tony_  
Thank you for your letter. I feel bad that I didn’t get us started out. I know you didn’t really want to have me as your pen pal but I promise to make this as painless as possible. As I said, this is kind of important for me. The Army has a new system to field promote to officer level us enlisted. I’ve been trying to do this and I’m excited that I might get Captain. It would mean the world to my Ma. My dad was in the Service, too. He was in the 107th. Always wanted to follow in my Dad’s footsteps. How about you? Lots of stuff in the news says you and your dad have some disagreements. He’s pretty famous, huh?

The other day one of the fathers here – I mean, I can hardly write this but you want to hear about more than what I ate for breakfast (which wasn’t all that good anyhow) – this father, he wanted his daughters to go to school. So, he’s been helping with building the new school. Well, he went with the contractor to get some of the building supplies in the next town over. Only thing is, the town had been ransacked the week before by some goon or drug lord, some warlord. This warlord isn’t so keen on letting girls get any education. He’s a Taliban supporter. It’s not good. This new wing of the Taliban is calling themselves Hydra or something weird. It’s supported by some outside influences. They think it might be like a Neo-Nazi wing or something. How weird is that? Anyhow, you probably saw it on the news. It’s all over CNN, according to Peggy. But the father got killed for his efforts. We should have been there, my unit should have escorted him to the neighboring village. We determined the risk level was pretty small, so the whole unit didn’t go. They were supposed to be friendly, so only one of us went – Sam. He was pretty shook up. Got the rest of the party out of there. 

That’s pretty grim. Sorry about that. It’s hard sometimes, to see the good we are trying to do when there’s just bad all around. I know a lot of people don’t see why we are still here. But it’s all about building a better world for everyone. Everyone deserves freedom and peace and to let their children grow up and be happy, you know?

I should move this along – you are probably going to think my whole life is about war over here. But it isn’t. We’ve been working on paving the roads so that the farmers can get their crops to the market and I’m also working with the local elders to protect the goats. Sometimes the goats wander off and get themselves killed by wild animals. So we are working on different ways to contain them. Problem is that goats like to climb – a lot. That’s a problem. They can JUMP too! A lot. 

So, you said you were doing a lot of research on clean energy. That would be great, especially in the more under developed parts of the world. Fossil fuels are so expensive for the poor countries that keeping fossil fuels as the main energy source of the world is one way to keep the poor countries poor. A new energy source would be great! I can’t wait to talk to you about your work and your lab. So yes, that is a yes, I can Skype with you! I will try to do so in the next few days. You will probably get this letter after I get some time to skype. I will try and send you an email after I skype with you. 

By the way, if I was going to have an unnatural life I would be a vampire. I mean who wants to be a zombie and rot and stink in the sun and eat brains. Yuck. I would rather be a vampire. Even though I couldn’t see the sun anymore and I’d have to drink blood (yuck) at least I would be the cool guy in the room instead of – well, you know, me. 

Talk to you soon! (hopefully)

_Steve_

Tony stared at the letter, re-read it again. Looked at the words about the deaths and the village. He felt cold and hot all at once and then he softly folded the letter and put it into his backpack. He tried not to feel transported. He tried not to hope that he could talk to Steve again soon. He tried to not admit to himself that he never saw how important this just might be to him. 

But then he would be lying.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 4  
The local elders expressed extreme displeasure with the current state of the security forces in the mountain pass. That could only mean that Rumlow and his strike team showed their true colors. Steve and Peggy met with the elders. While they weren’t very happy that Peggy sat in on the meeting, Steve told them that he needed to also know if any of their wives or daughters had anything to report, thus the reason Peggy needed to understand what was going on. The men all agreed that Peggy as the liaison was more acceptable than Steve asking questions. 

Peggy gave him a sidelong glance but kept quiet during the interview. Colonel Phillips had left the previous day for a survey of the whole province, talking to different village elders and stopping by some of the larger cities to check on the economic growth. Sam and Dugan had gone with them, and Steve sorely missed Sam. While Bucky was his friend and a great support for missions, Sam ended up being his sounding board. Peggy could fill in but Steve always felt a little overwhelmed by her at times. 

Between talking to the elders and hunting down the cause for their alarm, Steve and Peggy shared lunch and discussed the mission. At the same time, Steve wanted to ask if Peggy could allow him time on her computer. The command center had a computer station for the unit to use, but scheduling time might be dicey and always difficult due to the number of soldiers wanting to send messages back home.

“So, do you think I might use your computer set up again,” Steve asked.

“I don’t see why not,” Peggy said. “Please go right ahead.” She sipped her tea and pushed aside the rest of her meal. It wasn’t very good. The mess prepared stew and sandwiches – that usually meant that they used all the leftovers from the last few days to make the stew. The meatloaf stew seemed to be a mix between chili and hash browns – a decidedly weird mixture of tastes that lumped in the gut like lead. 

He ate his anyhow. Coming from poor family, he never turned down a meal nor did he ever fail to clean his plate.

“Thanks, Peggy.” He drank down the coffee. “So, I noticed you were at the English class speed dating thing a while back when we were in the States. Are you part of the class to promote?” He didn’t really understand why she would take the class. She was a British attaché Agent assigned to their unit to assess how they were working with the locals to build trust and to continue the mission of country building.

“For me, it’s strictly volunteer. I don’t need a class since I’m already an Agent. But I wanted to get more of the American viewpoint. The fact that President Ellis is interested in building countries and not conquering them is one that many in the Western world need to learn. I wanted to know how students in the US are handling his new administration.”

Steve smiled. “It’s a good thing, I think. So did you get an interesting student?” 

“Pretty good, but actually he’s a Veteran. Daniel Sousa. He was hurt during a deployment and was discharged from service. His interest in the class is really quite different than what I thought,” she said. “He wants to keep in touch with what’s going on because he wants to join the Peace Corp after he finishes getting his degree. He already had a degree, but he’s embarking on getting a degree in political science and sociology.”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Steve said. “It’s really great to learn so much about some of the students. I’m surprised with Tony – I thought he would be kind of a jerk. Well, he was a jerk when I met him. He’s really different now. He actually writes stream of consciousness letters but the few times we’ve skyped, it’s been nice to get to know his views of the world. He wants to make the world a better place.”

Raising an eyebrow, she looked doubtful at him. “Are you so sure? His father is Howard Stark. I’ve met the man, he’s very much a man bent on an old world order. He believes might makes right.”

“Seriously, Tony is far from his father. He wants to turn the company over into a clean energy company and stop making weapons.” Steve shrugged. “I don’t know much about this kind of stuff, but he seemed pretty sincere. He’s actually working on some new clean energy theories for his doctorate.”

“He’s working on his doctorate? I thought most of the students were lower classmen?” 

“He is, some nonsense about not getting his requirements for English or something; I don’t know. He mumbled about maybe hacking into a computer at the college?” Steve smirked. “I think he tries to be a con-artist but has a good heart.”

“You’re not smitten with him, are you?” Her eyes shadowed, motes dark and secret. 

He wondered if answering would hurt her in some way and that actually surprised him, because his response just might be positive. So he diverted. “That’s not the purpose of this assignment. And besides, you know that’s not my kind of thing.”

“Waiting for the right partner until you’re done with your good work for this world, Steve, seems a little more than naïve, it harkens to you wanting to be a priest. Who is to say he isn’t the right partner,” she said and although her words felt harsh, only kindness stayed in the depths of her eyes. She worried about him. They all did, his crew, his team. They were his family away from his mother.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Peggy,” he said and heat rose to his cheeks. “I’m not an innocent little boy, most people think I am. I have had some experience.”

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “It isn’t about experience, but more about allowing yourself happiness, Steve.”

He nodded and then a clatter and a shout from outside had both of them rushing to their feet to find out what was happening. He hurried to the door of the mess – it was only tent with reinforced sides so it had sturdy walls, windows, and doors since this part of the world had some earthquake risk. As he scanned the area, a shouting match between the local elder and Rumlow drew his attention. He cursed underneath his breath and ran outside to join the gathering crowd. Peggy trailed after him, she knew better than to push her way into the crowd since the elders would not see it as her duty to interfere.

Luckily Steve’s interpreter, Aref had been alerted to the situation and shouldered his way through the crowd as well. The village elder – a man named Rahman argued with Rumlow even as the strike team leader screamed back in English. Steve wasn’t sure either of them knew what the other was saying. 

“Okay, okay,” Steve jostled the growing crowd of village men, Afghan forces that had joined them on their mission, and the Howling Commandoes as well as the rest of the strike team. “Let’s find out what’s going on. Rahman-.”

Rumlow jumped in. “Don’t you give me that crap, Rogers. You come to me, you come to me to find out what the hell is going on – not some local village idiot.”

Steve eyed Aref and the man kept his mouth shut. Steve inhaled once and nodded to him, glad the man knew when to stay silent in the midst of a fight that could escalate quickly. “Brock, you are to treat the village elders with respect. We are guests in this country and, as such, we will follow their rules, and their needs.”

Aref began his translation and Rahman stood down a little, but his upset and disturbance wasn’t going to disappear that easily. Rumlow though was having none of Steve’s conciliatory words.

“What the hell, Rogers. We have work to do here, and this fuck is in my face about his damned prayers. I don’t give two shits-.”

“You interrupted their mid-day prayers?” Steve gaped at the man. He felt like two plus two no longer added up to four. How could someone be so stupid and naïve. What the hell was he dealing with anyhow?

“Prayers, a lot of dirt kissing to me,” Rumlow laughed and his strike team shifted about nervously, eying the village men and the Afghan forces. This was not going to go over well at all.

Steve shoved Rumlow in the shoulder and then physically hauled him through the crowd. He thrust open the door of the mess and tossed Rumlow into the empty room. The hour for lunch was late, and Steve was glad no one was here to witness this – he was sure Peggy was corralling the rest of the troops and ensuring that Steve did not have an audience. 

“You want to try that again, Rumlow?” Steve hissed.

“Try what? I’m here for one thing, Rogers, and that’s to clean out the trash. As far as I’m concerned, a terrorist is a terrorist. If the religion fits-.”

Steve punched him in the jaw, hard and fast. He rarely, if ever, threw the first punch, but right now, he couldn’t see how he could possibly stop himself. Rumlow’s head jerked back and he staggered into a table, up ending a chair. He wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. Glaring at Steve, Rumlow dared him with his eyes.

“Shit, you just hit the wrong person, Rogers.”

“No, I was pretty much on target there,” Steve replied and tried to stem the heat of his anger. He always got into too many scrapes as a skinny kid in Brooklyn. Of course, the minute Bucky heard about Steve throwing the first punch with Rumlow, he’d never hear the end of it.

“You’d side with a damned terrorist over a soldier? A soldier from your own country. What kind of traitor are you?” Rumlow spat blood on the floor of the mess.

It irked Steve but he held his temper at bay and said, “Terrorist, what makes him a terrorist? The fact that he happens to practice a different religion? Speaks a different language, has a different culture? You’re a damned hypocrite. You’re not an American soldier, you’re the terrorist.”

Steve wasn’t sure what happened next but Rumlow charged him and they crashed into the wall of the mess – a metal wall, pretty well denting it. Rumlow dove into the fight, ramming his fist hard and true to Steve’s face. Steve attempted a block but Rumlow swung low then and caught him in the mid-section. With a quick maneuver Steve kicked up and managed to hit Rumlow in groin to get the guy off of him. Rumlow fumbled for purchase, gasping as he held his crotch. “You god damned fucker.” He managed to say the words between rasping breaths.

“You just hit an officer, Rumlow.”

“And you fucking started it. You’re nothing, not a real officer Rogers.” He grinned at Steve as if coming to his senses. “You wait Rogers one of these days your pal out there, in this fucking shit hole is going to betray you and you’re going to come crawling back. Crawling and begging for help. Don’t.” Rumlow wiped at his face. A nice bruise was forming along his jaw. “Because we ain’t gonna have your back.”

Before Steve could reprimand him, Rumlow stalked out of the mess. Steve brushed at his uniform, staring into the white of the sunlight outside. The strike team closed ranks as Rumlow strode into their midst while the Howling Commandoes and the Rahman along with Aref headed toward the mess. Steve took a deep breath when he saw Bucky – the man was fit to be tied. Peggy walked beside him and her face was a mix of emotions, concern and a certain amount of pride. 

When Rahman entered the mess, Steve immediately addressed him. “I am sincerely sorry that one of our soldiers interrupted your mid-day prayers. It won’t happen again.”

Aref translated and Rahman smiled and spoke. In seconds, Aref said, “He has the most respect for you and your soldiers. He does not like these others and would like to request that they leave the area.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Steve said and he eyed Peggy. The mixture of emotion turned into a hard set of concern. “I’m not sure what their mission is but I will speak to Colonel Phillips and see if I can make sure that they won’t come into the village again. Would that be okay?” It was a compromise and hopefully would work out.

“Yes, this would work,” Rahman said through Aref. In addition, Aref said, “Please, Captain, it is important that these men stay away. They have been seen spying on some of our young girls as they go to the school. This is not good. It might spook some of the fathers not to allow their daughters to attend the makeshift school that we have right now. It does not bode well for the future.”

“Okay, that’s important. Thanks for telling me, Aref.” After that Aref left to see if the men of the village needed anymore reassurance. Steve worried that they’d lost a great deal of trust today. Respecting the culture of the place they were deployed was of utmost importance.

“You did the right thing, Steve,” Peggy said.

“Right thing, yeah, if you call getting beat the right thing,” Bucky groused.

Steve touched the bruise forming on his face. “If you want to know, I threw the first punch.”

Bucky shook his head and huffed out a breath. “You are always getting in fights with bullies. There’s nothing different. Just a little change of scenery.” 

Steve rubbed at the back of his neck and then turned to Peggy. “Do you think you could find out from Phillips what the heck Rumlow and the strike team are hanging around here for? I’d really like to know if they’re on some mission that I have worry about.”

“I’ll do what I can,” Peggy said and left him for her quarters. He watched her leave and remembered he had asked for access to her computer, but didn’t exactly ask for a time. He’d have to wait to get in touch with Tony. He wanted to try and send an email since he hadn’t written a letter in a while. 

“Rumlow’s gonna be a problem,” Bucky said as the rest of the unit dissipated, going to get coffee in the mess or going back to their stations around the village. The engineers’ progress continued to amaze Steve. 

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Steve replied and slapped Bucky on the shoulder. “Time for a look see around. I need to survey the different check points, wanna tagalong?”

Bucky shrugged and gave Steve a half smile. “Time for me to get to my guard duty on the southern point anyhow. I can walk with you.”

They went to their quarters first, since Steve needed to pick up his gear as did Bucky. They snapped on their armored vests and slung on rifles and put on helmets. While the summer time heat faded, October still held warm temperatures until later in the month. Even as he suited up, Steve began to sweat. He tucked in a bottle of water and tossed one to Bucky. They still bedded down in the troop quarters. Steve didn’t ask for special quarters for his pending field promotion. 

Walking out to the rim of the village, Steve took in the region. Far to the left he knew, the strike team bedded down and he still wanted to know what the heck they were doing. 

“We could go and look,” Bucky said as they made their way to the outer ridge of the village.

“Nah, I can wait until I get some intel from Peggy. She can get something from Phillips, I’m sure.” Steve adjusted his rifle and kept up the pace. “Need to talk to her and see if I can use her computer.”

“The base command has a computer and internet access, you can use that,” Bucky said.

“And there’s too many nosy people in our unit. So no thank you,” Steve said and laughed as Bucky pretended to be aghast. Steve knocked him in the shoulder as they made it to the ridge next to the tributary to Tarnak River. “Bridge looks good.”

“Strike team not so much,” Bucky commented and Steve turned to sight what his friend might be referencing. Bucky pointed to the far off ridge across the river and to the side of the bridge.

Steve zeroed in on it with his own binoculars. He fixed on it, studying the encampment. The high powered rifles were not trained away from the village or the bridge, but right at them. He groaned. This meant more hassle with the strike team, but first he really needed to know what was up with them. “I have to find out what’s going on.” He stowed his binoculars in his side pocket. “I need to get back to Peggy, see if she contacted Phillips yet. Are you okay to go to the checkpoint. I could radio for Gabe.”

Bucky waved him off. “No need. Checkpoints less than a quarter mile. Be there in a jiffy. You go and figure out what’s going on with those dickheads.”

Steve laughed but he didn’t take any joy in what was going on. Either the strike force was way off base or Steve and his team were being used a bait for something – something big and it couldn’t be good. The villagers would be innocents caught in the cross fight and he sure as hell did not want to support that kind of play. He started the march back as Bucky radioed ahead to his checkpoint and made sure all was clear. It was and so Steve felt relieved to be able to head back to the main base. He ended up walking directly to Peggy’s quarters and knocking on the door, waiting for her to answer.

“Come in.”

He slipped inside but notched the door open with his foot. “Peggy, I wanted to know if you happened to get in touch with Colonel Phillips about the strike team already?” He tried not to look around her quarters, but curiosity got the best of him. She was one of only a few women on the mission. Two others bedded down with her. The cots were lined up against the back wall of the quarters with their footlockers at the sides of the cots instead of the foot of the bed. Each of them had mosquito netting around their cots and kept their space tidy. Close to the door, there was a metal filing cabinet and an old wooden table with a computer on it. It was a laptop and Steve heard the chug of the generator outside to fuel it.

“I sent him a message. I expect it will take some time to get a response. His schedule is fairly full.”

Steve nodded but keep looking at the computer. 

“Would you like to use it, now? I know it isn’t in the common space anymore, and you haven’t asked to use it since it was moved, but you’re more than welcome?” she said. 

“If you wouldn’t mind?” Steve said and did a quick calculation in his head. He cringed, early too early for a call. “Hmm, maybe later?”

“No, Steve, go ahead. Maybe you could email him?” Peggy said and she stepped out without another word. 

He stood for a moment and then went into the quarters. It was a sturdy tent but he still felt as if he was intruding. He settled into the chair in front of the desk and tried to figure out if he should call or just email. He sat down and opened up his profile on the computer – because Peggy was nice like that. He opened up his personal email and thought about Tony’s letter. He didn’t have time to really answer it right now, but a quick email might work and he could set up a time to skype.

TO: tstark at MIT.EDU  
FROM: srogers at themail.com

 _Hey Tony,_  
This is a quick email – I just wanted to tell you I really enjoyed your letter and will answer it soon. It’s really refreshing to have a moment to sit down and read your letters. I find that I learn a lot and laugh a lot. I hope that was your intention!

I don’t have a lot of time – but I wanted to ask, can you skype? It’s about two in the afternoon here. Can you do it about chow time? Maybe around 6 pm here which would be about 9:30 am there. Would that be okay? I’ll ping you then. 

Talk to you soon!  
_Captain America_

Steve almost didn’t add Tony’s nickname for him. When he typed it out, his courage almost failed him, but he slammed on the send and sweated for a whole five minutes about whether or not he should have done it. Eventually, he got up and left the tent, knowing he either acted like an idiot or Tony might think it cute and laugh a little. The idea of making Tony laugh warmed him and it got him stepping a little lighter as he went about his duty during the day. 

He went to his quarters and pulled out Tony’s latest letter before going back to the computer at the command center (he scheduled time on it so that he wouldn’t have to interrupt Peggy and wouldn’t intrude on the women warriors that bunked with her). He shuffled through his papers and found the latest letter.

_A salute to Captain America!_

Hey Steve, I hope you don’t think I’m being rude by calling you Captain America- hell I call Rhodey sweetcheeks or cupcakes. It’s kind of a thing with me. I like adopting nicknames for friends. I suppose we might become friends, so welcome to the club of Tony’s awful nicknames. 

Your letter kind of hit home with me. I couldn’t believe the story about the father who died, just because he wanted a school for his children. Wow, I don’t know how you handle it. This is one of the reasons my father, Howard, and I don’t really see eye to eye. I want to make the world a better place – all he wants to do is blow it up. He’s very old school. His idea of a good world order means that there are bombs pointing at everyone and we can blow ourselves up 12 times over. That’s not what I want. I think we tried that during the cold war and that we need to move forward and change things. I want a transformation. That might sound very cliché, but I think that if we can find some ways to decrease arms and at the same time, ease the world’s crisis with energy, I think we will be going in the right direction. The less we are dependent on fossil fuels – all of us – the better. Right? Shit, I didn’t not expect to write something about me and what I want to do. This is supposed to be me, consoling you about the loss of the villager. So, I am sorry to hear it. I hope things are better now. 

But you did ask about my dad and whether or not we got along – not very much. We don’t. Howard tolerates me because of my mom. She really supports me. BTW – how is your mom? I hope she is getting better. You said your dad served in the Army, too. Is he retired? What does he do now?

Sometimes, I have to admit, I am blown away that you are in the thick of things over there. We hear about the Taliban and the Afghanistan/Pakistan border and the troubles there, but it all seems so distant and not related to anything we have cooking over here. But Pepper – who is one of my best friends and hopefully will be my CEO one day – said that geopolitical stability is the reason you’re over there and that’s the reason that America has interest there. So, I have to thank you for your service to us, and to the rest of the world. Trying to make the world a better place is one thing, but putting your life on the line for it – now that is truly brave. (See, I’m actually trying to be good about this – I don’t get or understand the military life or the need to serve, but I’m trying, I swear it)

Anyhow I hope that the goats stay put! I mean, seriously, who would have thought you have to worry about goats as a soldier! LOL! 

Lately, the school grind has kind of gotten to me. I’m having a lot of trouble with my research. It’s just that I’m spending way too much time and energy trying to figure out excitation levels. I need to be able to find a catalyst so the amount of energy I input into the core of my arc reactor is less than what I get out – it has to be efficient or it’s worthless. I’m working on it. But it’s driving me a little insane. Thankfully, I have Pepper to come by and force me to leave the lab and eat something more than skittles once in a while. (I hope you liked the bag of skittles I sent you).

Pepper has had some boyfriend issues. So I spent some time getting her to feel better. She lives with me, BTW. Mainly because I need someone to manage my life and she does a great job. She’s an undergrad but will probably go for a masters in some kind of geopolitical thing. I’m not too up on the social sciences!

You got some friends over there right? Band of brothers? I think you mentioned Sam – how is he? And Peggy? Who is she? Is she your girl? It’s okay to tell me about it, if you want to share. I’m cool with that. It’s not like I have a big time crush on my handsome, Greek god like pen pal – HAHAHA. 

God, I just re-read this letter and it’s so lame and ridiculous. I just want to say, that for me writing to you so far has been an experience (a good one, I mean it). You know I didn’t want to do this – I was pretty clear and upfront about that when we met. But now, for me, I have to admit, getting a letter and learning about what’s going on or one of your emails – it really means a lot. I don’t know, maybe I’m like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas, maybe my tiny little heart has grown. Crap, now I sound like a nitwit.

Well with that I will sign off!

Yours in love and hearts and all that other crap,  
_Tony_

Steve stared at the little hearts Tony made around his name and for a moment he pretended they weren’t drawn in jest. That they were serious and for Steve. He held back his sigh because – shit he was a soldier in the middle of an active warzone. 

Glancing at his watch, he noted that it was almost time to skype with Tony. He inhaled, held it, and then released it with a big puff. He needed to get his heart under control. This was just an assignment – he wasn’t falling for a guy half a world away. 

CHAPTER 5  
Tony rolled out of bed at 11 am. His eyes felt like some cat licked his lids and then they swelled up. He unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and then wished to die right there on the floor. Apparently that’s what happens when a person rolls out of bed, said person falls on the floor. He groaned and decided he didn’t like the smell of his area rug. Crawling up to his hands and knees, Tony tried to remember just what the hell had happened last night that put him in this state. Surely, he must have gotten laid.

He climbed over to look up at the bed. Nope, no one was there rumpled in the bed. Plus it didn’t really stink like sex. He still had his clothes on, which also told a story. Why the hell did he sleep in his jeans? That is so uncomfortable. He managed to hoist himself back onto the bed. He should really go to the bathroom, clean up, and try to forget last night. But that wasn’t going to happen. Because of what happened last night.

Fucking Howard happened last night. 

He would have rather had a drinking binge or maybe a damned lay. He hadn’t gotten laid in ages. Maybe he should call up one of his friends with benefits. Throwing himself down on the bed, he glared at the nightstand where his phone sat. Why couldn’t he have telekinesis? He should change his research project, get in touch with his mentor now and tell him that it was about time that someone investigated the ability to move objects only using mind waves – whatever the hell that was. He squinted at the phone, willing it to come over to him. It didn’t work.

“My mind waves aren’t working.” Maybe if he yelled loud enough, Pepper would come over and save him. The clock on his nightstand though told him Pepper wouldn’t even be in the apartment. Her classes on Mondays started at nine and it was way past nine. Alone, abandoned, he needed to get his phone. 

Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed it with a grunt and then input his code. He missed a load of calls, and – shit.

“Steve.” He cursed as he saw the notification he missed a skype call. “Damn.” A sinking feeling dropped in his gut. The call came through at nine in the morning. “Who the hell is up at nine in the morning, except for milkmen?” He frowned; he didn’t think there was such a thing as a milkman anymore. He couldn’t believe he missed Steve’s call. How the hell did he miss it? Did Steve tell him he was calling so early in the morning? Tony went to his email and scrolled through all the shit until he got to the email from Steve.

Short and sweet. He must have sent it earlier in the day – his time. Tony slept right through it. He felt like shit that he didn’t get to talk to Steve. Leaning back against the headboard he’d made out of a hood of an old corvette, Tony tapped out a quick email.

TO: srogers at themail.com  
FROM: tstark at MIT.EDU

 

 _Hey Captain America_ , I know you get up with the sun but some of us need our beauty sleep, especially after going a few rounds with dear old dad. Can we set up another skype? Can you do skype my time – 11 pm tonight? I think that’s 7:30 am your time. Might be too late, I’m not sure about it. Anyhow, try and skype when you can – I will be in the lab around 3 pm my time today and probably until around midnight or so. 

Your biggest fan!  
_Tony_

He stared at the words before he hit send. Nothing wrong with what he wrote but he just thought of families trying to get in touch with their loved ones overseas and how difficult it must be – on a daily basis. Here he was just trying to get a passing grade in an English class. How would it be to try and get in touch with someone you loved, having missed their call? 

It twisted deep in Tony’s chest and he rubbed at his sternum. He’d could feel the scar from the accident he’d had in the Fun Vee when he had refused to go home with Rhodey. The guy driving the SUV Tony decided to go in – wasn’t drunk – but he wasn’t exactly clean. When a drunk driver hit them, his driver’s reaction time had been slightly off, too slow and the whole thing flipped over. Tony had ended up with a cracked sternum and a fucking bruised heart. He nearly died from a blood clot, and infection. He had to be on blood thinners for weeks after the accident. It was a bitch to heal- but now he only touched the scars, and the memories came back.

The worst of the memories had been waking up to see his mother in the hospital with swollen red eyes and his father off to the side, hands in his pockets not even comforting his mother. When Tony awoke, Howard only said, “Don’t make your mother cry again. You do this again, I’ll fucking show you what it means to be a man.”

His mom choked out a sob and left the room. Howard stood over Tony’s bed and looked at him as if his whole being was a disappointment. Now, every time, Tony touched the scars on his chest, the whole thing tumbled back over him like rocks in an avalanche. The scars on his chest reminded him of more of the emotional pain than the physical pain or the scar farther up under his collar bone where his pacemaker sat.

Not every twenty something happened to have a pacemaker because of a drunken car accident and the resulting myocardial contusion with a happy infection on the side. Only him, lucky him. Ever since those dark days, Tony hated to interact with this father. While his mother kept dear old dad off of Tony’s back most of the time, every now and again, the worse dropped into Tony’s lap. Not a lot of people knew about Tony’s health issues. Hell, a lot of people just assumed the dramatics played out in the demented media centered on the idea of a spoiled brat kid and a cold father – well, Tony kind of thought the cold fish of a father might just be dead on right.

He needed to forget it for a while, washing away the memories of fighting with his father last night. Getting up, he went to the bathroom and pulled off his clothes. He felt tight and tense. Even after sleeping, he still felt like hell. His father ran over him with a truck last night. Only his mother’s intervention stopped the gates of Mordor from opening and all the orcs and nightmares from crashing into him. He scrubbed at his face as he let the water warm. He wondered if Steve had hot water. How often did they get to shower in the desert? Was it desert? Steve said something about a river – could there be a desert with a river involved? Now he was really confused. 

Stepping into the shower, he let it rain down on him. Tony closed his eyes and just stood there for several minutes. His mood soured. Missing the call from Steve really affected him and he didn’t want to admit what that meant. He’d only known the guy for a few weeks, but Steve was safe – that’s what it was safe. If Tony had to be honest – most of the time his commitment phobia and the general asshattery of guys he dated ensured that he stayed single. The thought of Steve though – that was different. So much different. Cursing himself, he finished up and left the shower no more refreshed than when he started. 

Without much thought he toweled dry and dressed. His jeans might be dirty but they didn’t smell too bad. His shirt and underwear were clean – so he counted that as a win. After he scuffled out of the ‘east wing’ of the loft, he went to the kitchen and found a box of frosted flakes, a jug of Lactaid, and a mug sitting on the counter with a note next to it. 

_I’m going to lunch at the café, if you need to talk. P_

That was nice – it was real nice. But Tony wasn’t in any mood to talk really. He wanted to strangle someone. He made the coffee and sat down and shoveled in the cereal. He didn’t really get into any more tolerable mood after his third cup of coffee so he decided to get moving. He was supposed to mentor some kid from New York today – Queens or some shit. God, why did he get himself into these messes?

Within the hour, after he made his way to campus, Tony ended up at the Stratton Student Center meeting his mentee for the first time. He didn’t have to do this; it wasn’t a requirement for his graduate career, but in a moment of weakness he said yes to something he should have said no to. So he was back at the Student Center, hanging out with a kid from Queens – who was in high school no less. Apparently a new program to help under privileged kids from around the country abducted Tony’s life. 

Attending the meet and greet out of the kindness of his heart, Tony smiled as a young freshman named Daisy or Skye (seriously what did he know) brought him to a table to meet his mentee. He needed to tap down his revulsion for doing this – it wasn’t like he had to mentor a space alien that wanted to eat his face. He only had to do this for a week or a month. When Daisy left him with his charge, he glared at the kid and said, “How long are you here?”

“Hmm, I-.” The kid stumbled around and then finally spat out, “Two weeks. I don’t want to get in anyone’s way. I just-.” He swallowed down his words and looked at anything but Tony.

Leaning into the table, Tony caught his focus and said, “Listen kid, I woke up not on the wrong side of the bed, but on the wrong side of my life. Then I missed an important call. So, I just want to know a few things. Like name, serial number, and how the hell long you are going to be follow me around?”

“P-Peter Parker. I’m not sure what you mean about my serial number – do you want my student number or my telephone number. And I’m here for two weeks, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t try and dip me in radioactive shit to get me to glow or climb walls or something.” He sat back, obviously all of his bravado spent.

Tony scratched at his brow and then dropped his hand. “Okay, okay, I deserved that. I only signed up for this as a way to get some extra funding that my PI and my father wouldn’t give me. I can help you along, kid. I just need you not to get in my way. I already have enough distractions to ruin my research.”

“Oh, I don’t want to distract you, Mister Stark-.”

“How the hell do you know my name?” 

“The email? With all the specifics?” Peter said and took out his phone –that had to be three years old at least. It looked like a dinosaur mini-phone. He tapped on it and then showed Tony the evidence.

This again? There were emails that he never got or he didn’t pay attention to – Pepper was seriously slipping in her management of his life skills department. “Okay, so what’s the deal? You got some place to sleep right? I don’t have to babysit you or anything.”

“Babysit? Geez, no, I’m sixteen, I don’t need a babysitter.” Peter looked at him appalled and slightly red in the face.

“Hell, what do I know, I had a nanny at fourteen. So you got a place to sleep and I would suppose a way to eat and get around?” Peter nodded to Tony’s question. He actually pulled out a bus pass as if that was a great thing. “So I’m just showing you the ropes in my lab?”

“Yeah, for like a few hours each day. I’m also working with Jane Foster, too.” He seemed too proud of that and not proud enough about working with Tony. 

“Jane is just looking at black holes. I’m inventing new energy.” Tony knew he shouldn’t be competing with his fellow classmates, but hell if this kid wanted to idolize someone it should be Tony. 

“Oh yeah? What kind of energy? Personally I’m interested in tensile strength of different materials. I think it will be especially important living on different planets like Mars.”

“Why the hell would that matter?” Tony asked and followed the kid into the rabbit hole. If anything it happened to be an entertaining hour of talk that ping ponged around from Mars and space travel to new energy types and different outputs from rare metals to possibilities of space-time conversion and black holes. 

When the hour was up, Tony had to admit he had a decent time. The kid was smart, witty, and talking to Tony resulted in a little bit of hero worship. Just what Tony needed on this cold and windy day. He set up a schedule with the kid – Peter would come to lab every day around two in the afternoon and work with Tony for a few hours for the next two weeks. It would be fun and a distraction from his current issues. 

Eventually, though Tony needed to make his excuses and get back to the lab today. Parker would come over starting tomorrow. He had some administrative crap to do, and the high school group had a big welcome party tonight. 

“Do you want to come – as my mentor?” Peter said. The kid looked so hopeful, but Tony kept thinking about his plans to talk to Steve tonight.

“Maybe, I have a call I have to take tonight.”

“A call?” Peter wasn’t sold.

“It’s an assignment, like a teleconference. The guy is over in the Middle East. It’s hard to schedule times to talk because of the time difference,” Tony explained and just wanted to stop talking. He felt like he was lying or at least obfuscating. 

“Oh okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” Peter said and now Tony felt like a piece of shit. 

He rubbed at his face and then said, “I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

Peter beamed at him. Now, he had to show up for the kid. Why was this Tony’s life? He needed a new mentor, this was all his PI’s fault. Tony really didn’t need this aggravation. But he smiled at the kid and managed to excuse himself without feeling like he let the kid down. He would spend an hour at the thing tonight and that would make the kid feel good. 

By the time Tony walked over to his lab, he’d stopped and gotten a huge coffee, drank it all, felt the after effects of it in his gut because he definitely hadn’t eaten enough today. Opening a snack bag that Pepper often stashed in his backpack, he munched on the mix of nuts, raisins, and something that might be some kind of weird yogurt thing. He texted Pepper, thanked her for the mix, and then told her he had too much to do to meet for lunch. It didn’t really matter anyhow, she probably already came and went to lunch.

His work immersed him and he barely heard T’Challa puttering around on his side of the lab. Tony spent hours reconfiguring his vitaray detector for the arc reactor. The signal to noise ratio awful. He fumed when adjusting the gain did nothing at all. But then he noted the wiring looked like some rodent had gotten to it and chewed away at his work. So he spent a good amount of time soldering the connections. Along about seven in the evening, Peter showed up at his lab.

His eyes got all glossy as he roamed the place, touching and asking questions about everything. T’Challa laughed at Tony. The man had an evil streak to him. He saluted Tony and left the lab as Tony was abandoned to babysit the teen. “Okay, no touching, no touching.” Tony shooed Peter away from his board. “Are you here for a reason?”

“The party? The welcome party tonight. I thought we could go together?” Peter said and gave him that nervous smile.

“Party, right.” He glanced at the time. Then he checked his phone. “I need to see if I got an email first, okay?”

“Sure, yeah, I’ll just stand next to the massive tank of boiling whatever the hell it is.” Peter shuffled toward T’Challa’s side of the lab and Tony only smirked.

TO: tstark at MIT.EDU  
FROM: srogers at themail.com

 

 _Hey Tony,_  
I can probably make it to skype around 9 pm your time. Sorry that’s the best I could do.  
_Steve_

That meant he didn’t have a lot of time. He eyed the kid. Shit. “I have about an hour. I have to be back here by 8:45 at the latest.” He was not going to miss this call. As he shoved his phone into his pocket he tried to ignore the fact that he would have done anything a few weeks ago to get out of this assignment and this class. But right now, Steve was kind of a safe place to lay all his troubles, like a journal or a Captain’s log or something. Captain’s log –that was funny – and then his brain went south and dirty. Log. Ha. 

“That’s okay,” Peter said. “I get you. You need to work and talk to those terrorists in the Middle-.”

Tony jerked around and glared at the teen. “He is not a terrorist. He’s a Captain in the military, and he’s serving his country and you should honor that.”

Peter put his hands up in surrender. “Hey, yeah, sure. I just thought, you know. Middle East, those guys over there are all out to kill people.”

Again, the anger raged and Tony bit his tongue not to scream at the kid. “He’s not about killing people. He’s about helping people. He’s over there helping to build a bridge and a school. Part of stabilizing the world is making sure other people have what we have, you know.”

Peter chewed on his lower lip and nodded. “I never thought of that.”

“No, most people don’t.” His own face heated with his remembered shamed. Damn, what had talking to Steve done to him. He shrugged it off and then pulled on his hoodie so they could walk across campus to a restaurant a block away. It took them fifteen minutes and Tony cursed a little. Once they got there, it was raucous and a little crazy because Thor was there with his younger brother, Loki.

Thor jostled Tony around with his hand on his shoulder. “Meet my brother, Loki. He is part of this most excellent project.” Tony screwed up his face at Thor. How could Loki be part of the project, considering it was for under privileged kids and Thor’s family was rolling in it over in Norway? Thor took a mug of root beer (no one was drinking because of the high school kids) and slammed it down on the table. “My brother Loki is one of the counselors. Right, dear brother?”

He glowered at his brother but said, “Yes, dear brother.”

“See, he is one of the counselors. Being adopted as a young orphan he understands the needs of -.”

“Thor, don’t. You’re getting yourself wrapped up in your over privileged morals and it isn’t going to come out sounding right, even though you want it to,” Loki said and there was some sympathy in his expression – though a lot of exasperation as well. 

Thor frowned and looked like someone kicked a puppy in the face. Tony only turned to Peter and started to introduce him around. Thor and Loki were perpetually at odds. Thor trying to do good, Loki taking him down a notch. A ton of people were hanging out at the Italian restaurant. It tried to be a pizzeria but really doubled as just about everything else. Peter had some friends from the project, someone called Miles, another girl named Gwen whom he seemed to have eyes. While Tony scarfed down three slices of pizza and downed a few sodas, he smiled and tried not to keep glancing at the time.

As Peter gabbed around tensile strength and outer space, Tony noticed that Natasha, Fury’s teaching assistant was there. Peter and his friend Miles were debating the whole issue so Tony slipped away. Natasha cocked an eyebrow at him and smiled.

“Stark, how’s your assignment? Any good?”

“He’s fine, he’s fine. So how come no one told me this class delayed marks until March of next year?” Tony asked. 

“It was in the syllabus,” Natasha shook her head as a friend came over and gave her a soda. He had a sweatshirt that showed he was with the archery club. “Clint met Tony Stark.”

Clint grunted – maybe a hello or maybe I hate you – Tony didn’t know.

“In the syllabus, you could have said something,” Tony said. 

“Well, if you want a pass fail you can petition to get your grade at the end of the semester. As long as you finish the report, you can do it then. We really don’t want you to do it then, because this is a social experiment too, you know,” Natasha said and Clint muttered something, but then Tony felt like crap because he started to sign to Natasha. “And it’s rude, you know, not to say hello to someone who just greeted you.”

Tony couldn’t believe how much this day sucked. He nodded to Clint and waved with a meek hi. “Sorry I didn’t know.”

Clint signed to Natasha and she interpreted, “He said no problem, everyone knows you’re a dick.”

“That’s nice. You’re my kind of guy,” Tony said. And actually felt that way because the guy seemed like he shot from the hip and didn’t fake shit. It didn’t take long until they were all huddled around a table discussing the merits of the high school project as well as the English class Tony was stuck in.

“He’s a nice guy. I suppose,” Tony said.

Clint rolled his eyes and signed, “Loverboy.” Natasha laughed.

“No, big army guy. They don’t do that kind of stuff in the army.” Tony shook his head and sipped the last of his soda. He really wished it was okay with the army. Maybe if Steve was available, Tony’s hands wouldn’t sweat every time he thought of Steve, and his heart wouldn’t pound in his ears. Shit, who the hell is he kidding? It could be worse.

“That’s not true,” Clint signed. “Army accepts openly gay soldiers. They even had a transgender policy that accepts people with their identified gender.” He lifted a shoulder as Tony listened to Natasha’s translation. 

“Seriously?” Tony felt like someone rang a bell in his ear. “He could be a gay guy?”

Natasha chuckled. “Sure, but Tony don’t get your hopes up. It isn’t like he is gay or anything. Did he give you any indication he was gay?”

Tony shook his head and had to admit that Steve never mentioned anything. Sure he talked about other guys, but most of the army was guys, right? But he did talk a lot about Peggy, and maybe he loved Peggy and they were a thing or a couple or something. Tony didn’t know. He asked about Peggy but hadn’t exactly received an answer - yet. Plus how the hell did Natasha know anything. “Hey, how do you even know I’m gay?”

Natasha patted his arm. “Tony, everyone knows you dated Justin Hammer. That jerk really advertised it all over campus.”

“Little shit.” Tony sat back and watched as Peter threw darts with Loki. It was weird, because he felt like he should be babysitting the kid. “Well, that’s old news. I gotta go.” It was already 8:45 and it took a while to cross campus. 

Natasha raised her glass and said, “Tell me if you need me to change your grade to a pass fail. I can get Fury to agree, if you want.”

He only brushed her off. He’d worry about that later. Going over to Peter, he said, “I gotta go. I’m gonna be late for the call.”

Peter grimaced as if Tony had socked him in the gut. Just as Tony was about to apologize, the kid turned around and said, “I’m really sorry. This is my fault. I didn-.”

Tony stopped him. “Don’t worry about it, kid. I just gotta go. Come by the lab tomorrow and we’ll work on some calibration of my detector.”

He perked up and nodded. “Great, thanks, Mister Stark.”

As Tony left, he yelled over the music and said, “Tony, Mister Stark is my father.” Even saying that brought back all the angst and anger from last night’s battle with his father. What a royal pain in the ass Howard could be. Tony shouldered his way through the crowd and out into the street. It was drizzling and the rain was cold. Shivering, he buried his hands deep in his pockets and jogged across the street to the campus. He was never going to make it there on time. What a fucking creep he was. His level of self-hatred on high, Tony raced across campus. He managed only to slip once in the rain, splattering himself with mud and cold water before he got to his building and input the code to get access. By the time he rushed to his laboratory it was 9:03. He cursed.

As he went to his lab bench, he heard the telltale signs that he missed the call. Without even taking off his sopping wet hoodie, he tried to connect back. He murmured come on, come on, come on, and realized how very stupid and strange he’d become as he stood there making a wet puddle all over the floor. 

The connection went through and seconds later Steve greeted him. “Hey Tony, for a minute there I thought you wouldn’t make it. Sorry for the change in time.”

Tony rubbed a wet hand down his face, unzipped his hoodie, and tore it off. “No, no, all me. All my bad. I had to go to a party with some kid tonight. Sorry I’m late.” He scratched at his hair trying to get the water droplets out of it and his eyes.

“Oh you have a party, you could have just skipped the call. And you look a little drenched.” The computer camera on Steve bleached out his coloring for the most part except for the purplish reds on the side of his jaw. 

He waved off the party. “You look a little beat up. Did you see action?” Tony asked and something inside of him squeezed tight.

Steve shook his head and touched the bruising on his jaw. “Nah, one of the other units. Had a run in with the guy. He’s not being culturally aware. Causing all kinds of problems.”

“So the answer to that was, you should see the other guy?” Tony joked and slid a stool over to the lab bench and settled down on it. Steve laughed in reply and Tony inhaled once and exhaled. “So you doing good?” 

“Other than the run in with Rumlow, yep. The bridge is progressing, but we might need to make a run across the lowlands to get some missing supplies. I don’t know yet, so I’ll be off line for about a week when we do that,” Steve said. “It’s good.” He picked up a red package and shook it. “I liked the skittles by the way. My mom always sends cookies.”

“I live on skittles,” Tony said and smiled. The warmth he felt was because he was finally indoors and his clothes were drying – nothing more. “How is your mom doing?”

Steve smiled – genuine and true. “Better, much better. She has some respiratory problems but she’s doing good. My buddy’s family – the Barnes – have a place out in Arizona that they are renting over Thanksgiving and then through the winter. So she’s going to go out and stay with them.”

“Wow, that’s great.” Tony said and found he really did mean it. He knew how much his mother meant to him. “My mom and dad always spend Thanksgiving in the islands.”

“Islands? Like the Caribbean?” Steve asked. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony replied. “Dad doesn’t do family.” He shouldn’t have said it, but it had been stewing all day. His anger, his frustration, his turmoil about his father’s attitude about Tony’s work.

“You don’t spend the holiday with your family?” Steve asked. “I have to admit, I’m not sure I’ll be able to fly out to see mom in Arizona this year and it’s killing me. I might even have a few days off for the holiday.”

“Dad hates family time, or at least now he does. My mom tries but Dad thinks he lives in the 50s or something,” Tony said, not looking at the screen, not really looking at anything. “You know, he doesn’t really like what I’m doing. Last night, we had a fight. I mean a battle of epic proportions. He threatened to take away my funding, but then I reminded him that my research was funded by a grant from the Federal government.” He flicked his gaze up to see Steve intently watching him, following every word. “He said he’d call his Congressmen. I laughed at him but then – well, it got ugly. I don’t want to blow up the world.” He shut his mouth then because he knew he was treading on territory that might get him in trouble with Steve. Military arms might not be where Tony wanted to be, but Steve used them on a daily basis.

“He comes from a different era. You have to understand that, Tony. Back in the day, the world was at war whether it was a face to face war or a cold war where there were a ton of wars by proxy. Well, according to the older generation, the world is not a safe place, it isn’t a place with clean energy and saved species. It’s a place filled with people who want to blow you up,” Steve said and leaned against his folded arms. 

“They have to get with the program, they keep it up we’ll all be dead,” Tony said and then wanted to take it back right away. He really didn’t know how to talk to a guy in the army.

“Well, maybe you have to talk to your father a different way?” Steve said. “Talk about inventions and possibilities. Also what your clean energy would do to stabilize the world. Geez, something like that would really help out here. We’re in the middle of nowhere and have to drive in our fuel all the time. It’s expensive as hell. You want to stabilize the world, you got to help the world.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony said. “I should. Maybe if I talk to my mom. She’s a good conduit to use to get my dad to see things. Howard can be a jerk, but he-.”

“He’s still your dad. I get it. I would do anything to see my dad again. He died when I was a kid. I never got to have fights with him,” Steve smiled but it was sad and rueful. “I know you can do it, Tony.”

“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, I didn’t know your dad was gone,” Tony said. What kind of shitty person blew up about his dad when his friend’s dad was dead? “Sorry.”

Steve waved it off. “You didn’t know. It’s been a long time. Fathers can be a pain. I know because Bucky, my best friend since forever, always has beefs with his dad. They argue all the time. Bucky joined up because of me, and I thought he would never hear the end of it.”

“Oh boy, you got him in trouble?” Tony laughed and reached over to rip open a bag of skittles.

“Trouble, let’s talk about how I thought Mister Barnes might come over and box my ears and beat me up. The only reason he didn’t is because he was terrified of upsetting my Ma.” Steve talked about his mother, the same way Tony felt about his own. 

“So is Bucky over there with you?” Tony asked and hoped to hell the guy wasn’t. What if Steve was gay and Bucky was his guy, where would that leave Tony. But then he remembered Peggy – the girl – the one that Steve mentioned. There wasn’t any hope so no harm in asking.

“Yeah, Bucky is kind of my right hand guy, but then again so is Sam. They’re both pretty good. Sam’s a little more level headed than Bucky. Bucky is a crack shot and loyal to a fault. They both are. They’d have my back any day of the week.” Steve explained some of the current affairs of the deployment, what the elders were doing to improve their village. How the roads to the main cities were a mess, and being over in Kandahar might change things for the better. 

In turn, Tony told Steve about his work, how his father didn’t really support it, and about his new mentee. “I don’t know I shouldn’t have said yes to this program. I’m swamped as it is. I have a committee meeting before Thanksgiving and I have to show some progress.”

“How long is the program?”

“Two weeks,” Tony said and realized how ridiculous it sounded. “Yeah, yeah it’s only two weeks.” 

“Can you have the kid help you out, maybe?” Steve asked.

“I could, he’s a smart kid from what I’ve seen,” Tony said. “It might be nice to have a lab assistant. Even if he’s a pimply faced teenager.”

Steve laughed and then looked behind into the dark of the tent. “I have to go. The sun’s coming up soon and I need to get moving. Like I said I’ll be off line for about a week. So sorry if you don’t hear from me at all.”

“No worries,” Tony said and then the real thought of Steve out there, possibly going into dangerous territory hit Tony. “Are you going to be okay? I mean, is it dangerous?”

Steve shook his head and smirked. “Oh I learned a while ago with my mom never to answer that question. Just know, I’ll be careful.”

“You do that,” Tony said and then they signed off. He sat there and stared at the little skype logo, thinking of his mundane daddy problems and high school mentee problems compared to Steve – Jesus – he was going out on the road and it could be dangerous and things could explode – Crap – people could die. Steve could die. It hurt his heart and Tony placed a hand on his chest and tried to gulp in some air. Maybe he needed to talk to his doctor again. This couldn’t be a normal reaction, could it?

“Focus, focus,” he muttered to no one but himself. It wasn’t working and he would be sitting on the edge of his seat until he finally got a letter from Steve a week later.

Of course the letter happened to be dated the day after he talked to Steve, but still it helped Tony get over the anxiety (a little bit).

 _Tony,_  
I wanted to write you a quick letter before my unit moves out. I felt terrible that I didn’t talk more about your dad and your issues with him. All I did was bring up my dad. I want to tell you something, something that Bucky doesn’t even know. My dad, I might- kind of look up to his service to his country and all- but he ended up with PTSD. He didn’t get help, and he got drunk one night when I was a little kid – really little this is like my first memory. He hit my mom. Bad. I cried. He even came after me because I was crying and he couldn’t take the noise. My mom got in his way, stopped him. We didn’t get help. He was on leave. He died shortly after that – my mom never spoke about it. I always tried to remember that dad was sick and that he didn’t mean it. But it scared me and I always worry that I won’t be able to handle everything that happens to me. Like, what if I end up like him? Hurting someone I love? 

So, here I am talking about me again, but the point of that story is that your dad doesn’t define you. You can do whatever you want to do – that’s what Sam tells me all the time. He tells me that you can define how you want to live your life, what’s important to you. So you can too, Tony. I know you can. And like we talked about – your work – it is going to change the world for the good! Did you know that Jonas Salk gave the world the polio vaccine, he got no royalties, nothing? He changed the world. Whatever you do, Tony, I know you can too!

Anyhow, I have to go – the unit is pulling out in five minutes and I want to get this in the mail. Take care and I’ll talk to you soon!

_Captain America_

The unit was pulling out. Tony looked up at the ceiling of his loft apartment. Here he was all cozy and warm in his apartment, after days of working in the lab. He was comfortable as he clung to the letter. Where was Steve, right now? What was he doing?

He wanted to talk to him, to make sure he was okay. He’d told Tony a secret. Something his closest friend didn’t know. Tony pressed the letter to his scarred chest and closed his eyes. He needed to write a letter and get it there before Steve finished his assignment. It would be nice for Steve to have a letter ready and waiting for him.

Tony pulled out his laptop and started to write as the rain came down on the first Saturday of November.

CHAPTER 6  
The grime and sand from the road stuck everywhere; it plastered on his face and he closed his eyes as he slumped in the back of the Humvee. Mud caked on his uniform, under his nails, in his ears. The only thing that was clean was his gun, and the supplies. They’d gotten the supplies and opened up the blocked road for more transport. Steve glanced at his team as the Humvee swayed along the open road. Every single one of them advertised exhaustion, stress, and the trauma from a firefight. He’d have to spend time with each one of them once they finally made it back to the base. Almost there now. He didn’t check his watch; it was dead. It took a hit of shrapnel that could have decimated his wrist. He had a doozy of a black and blue along with a slight sprain but no permanent damage. None of his unit ended up with any permanent damage – at least on the outside. 

He peered up at the cab, at the driver. Sam had discarded his wings to drive them home. Steve was grateful; he didn’t think he could navigate back to base. The exhaustion ate at his bones. That wasn’t to say that Sam hadn’t been affected by the mission, but somehow the man’s constitution outlasted them all. Steve’s gaze roamed his team, checking them silently. During the planning stage of the mission, he pared down the unit to the basics since they couldn’t bring but two vehicles. One to transport and the other to guard. Usually he wanted to use at least two Humvees as security around the transport, but unfortunately the supply of gasoline dictated that he had to do what he could with one guard vehicle. 

Behind them the transport carried the supplies as well as Gabe, Dum Dum, Morita, and Falsworth. Bucky sat in the cab of the Humvee with Sam while Aref, Dernier, and Peggy were seated in the back with Steve. Steve ordered the transport to have the heavier guard because he could not go through what they experienced trying to get the supplies in the first place again. The southern warlords at the border had attacked and none of his unit got any sleep for the last seventy two hours. 

The Humvee bumped and rocked as it drove over the cobbled road. Steve met Peggy’s gaze and nodded. Her hair had come undone on the one side from the braid. While the same exhaustion haunted her face, she managed to exhibit a cool demeanor. She’d fought alongside them. At one point Steve thought the interpreter might balk at having a female soldier, but Steve asked Peggy to guard him and things changed after that – the man had been positively impressed with her skill and level headedness. 

Sam called back, “Come up on checkpoint, almost home.”

“Finally,” Bucky muttered.

“Shower awaits,” Dernier mentioned while Steve smiled. He’d love a shower, a bed, and something better to eat. 

When they finally got through the checkpoint and rolled into the village, Steve thought he might collapse right there as they climbed out of the Humvee. Bucky shadowed him and slung an arm around his shoulders. “You sure you want command, that was one hell of a mission.”

“Burned me out,” Gabe commented as they all gathered around the vehicles. Steve noted that the strike team was in the village and he searched for Phillips. No sign of him – but he was probably in the command center anyhow. 

As they started to unload the supplies from the transport truck, Rumlow and his team mates sauntered over to them. Steve feel the heat of frustration curl up the back of his neck. He didn’t want any trouble, especially not now. Rumlow grinned at him.

“Hey Cap to be, you want we unload for you?” 

Steve was taken aback by the offer. “We got inventory to do.”

“Give it here,” Rumlow said. “You look like you’ve run through hell and back. Let us do it, you go get cleaned up, get something to eat, and bed down for a few hours. We can do it.”

Steve hesitated with side glanced at a dubious Bucky. 

“Consider it a peace offering,” Rumlow suggested and again his team mates smiled and nodded in unison like there were all bobble heads on a dashboard of a car. Dum Dum and Falsworth looked eager to accept while most of the rest of his crew literally looked like something the cat dragged in – he couldn’t deny them – not after the battle they’d experienced. 

“Okay, thanks. I appreciate it, Brock,” Steve said and offered his hand.

Rumlow clasped it and shook hard, yanking at Steve to bring him into an embrace. Into Steve’s ear, he said, “That firefight must have been something – you know, the kind I like. Explosions, shrapnel flying along with the bullets, don’t know who is who. Friendly fire always so close.” He released Steve and winked. “Go get some rest, Cap. We’re taking on the chore.”

Steve staggered a bit as Rumlow let him go and that only elicited a ‘oh’ and ‘time for bed, big guy’. He watched and the strike team started the unpacking and the Howling Commandoes scattered. The sun glare hit him hard but he followed Rumlow with his gaze, wondering what the hell he was up to and what the remark meant. 

“Coming?” Bucky asked as he jogged back to where Steve was standing.

Distracted, Steve nodded and started toward Bucky. With a backward glance at Rumlow as the Army Corps of Engineers joined the strike team to unload the supplies, Steve tried to gauge the meaning behind Rumlow’s words. Everyone knew that during a fire fight the friendly fire from the hostile fire became a blur and it took a lot to keep things clean and sorted even in the middle of the panic and stress. His team performed well, no causalities and no injuries. It was a clean fight, a good fight. They rescued the outpost and cleaned up the warlord’s thugs, plus got the supplies they needed. 

“Don’t,” Bucky warned as he hauled Steve away and toward the barracks. “He’s being an ass.”

“Did you hear what he said?” Steve asked as he tugged out his sunglasses and slipped them on. 

“No, but I’m sure it wasn’t that he wanted to buy you roses and take you out to a fine dinner,” Bucky said as they entered the barracks and both of them freed themselves of their packs. 

“No, he said something about the fire fight and friendly fire,” Steve said and frowned. It wasn’t a question about whether or not there was a fire fight; Steve had radioed ahead and apprised Colonel Phillips of the action. Reported everything. “There wasn’t an issue.”

Bucky scrunched up his face and said, “Leave it. He’s trying to throw you. Rumlow’s a creep and he’s always trying to get one up on you. Probably pissed you got to clean up his mess. You know the strike team is supposed to keep the borders clean, and what we walked into means they didn’t.” Bucky unclasped the last of his weapons and pulled off his jacket. He fell down on his cot. “He’s trying to throw you off balance.”

“He’s pissed because we did his job.”

“That’s true,” Bucky said and lay there staring up at the ceiling of the tent.

“Are you even going to take off your boots?” Steve said as he started to untie his own. The rest of the group limped into the tent, hot and stiff from the ride. 

“I don’t know, I think I might be sleeping already,” Bucky mumbled and then turned over only to start snoring immediately. 

Rolling his eyes, Steve pulled off both of his boots and then flopped down on his thin mattress. Everything hurt and ached but he couldn’t move. He felt like mud encrusted his eyelashes. He rubbed at them; what little tears he had left smudged the dirt and he sighed. He needed sleep – and before he knew it – sleep took him. 

By the time he woke up it was the middle of the night. He rolled over and got to his feet. He was careful not to wake his fellow soldiers. Stiff, and achy, he managed to dig through his footlocker and get out some clean clothes. Going to the showers, he stood there and let the water hit him. The pressure sucked but at least he was getting clean. He had to shower in the dark because there weren’t any lights in the showers. He didn’t care – the moonlight was enough. He watched as the streams of water ran down his body, muddy and red. A little bit from the blood of scabs and scratches and minor injuries from the battle, a little from the iron in the soil. Finally, when the water ran clear, he turned it all off and dried. Slipping into his clothes, he grumbled because everything scratched. He just wanted to feel something soft again. He ran the towel over his head, shaved by feel and moonlight and then stowed everything back in his footlocker except for the towel. He tossed that in the laundry. 

He needed to write a report so he headed to the command center. A few soldiers were there as security and saluted him as he entered. It was a tin can of a building but at least it had lights, fans, and the modern conveniences like a coffee maker and internet. He found the coffee maker. It was the old kind with the grinds and everything. So he set up a pot and then went to the computer to boot it up and log on through all the security steps. Once done, he poured himself a mug of coffee and then settled at the computer to write his report on the mission. It would take a while and he felt the exhaustion like a sickness in his bones.

When he opened up the mission report form – he filled in all the essentials and then just sat there staring at the blinking cursor. His mind kept whipping around what Rumlow taunted him with. The man knew it would bother Steve; that’s why he said it. Steve was sure – just to get him, force him to worry at it. 

He released his held breath and tapped through to his email. Official email was chuck full of administrative requirements. He responded to some of them, deleted or filed others and then switched over to his personal email. There were a few emails from his mother and he quickly answered them. He tried his best to put up a positive front; he didn’t want her to worry. So he wrote about the village – the children. He wrote about the landscape, how much drawing he had done (not enough – but he didn’t tell his mom that), and he reported on the different team members. He stayed out of the guts of the mission. She didn’t need to read about it. He needed to talk to her soon. He sent her an email to schedule a time. 

The rest of his emails, outside of the junk, ended up being from Tony. Twenty of them. Two – zero. Steve frowned. Tony knew he was going to be away. Of course, that didn’t account for the fact that the mission extended long past a week. Closer to a week and a half. He’d accounted for that with his mother, made sure that Sergeant Adams would send his mother a message to tell her that he was fine. He never did the same for Tony – didn’t think he had to even consider it. 

He pulled up the emails – the first few were during the seven days he had planned to be away.

TO: srogers at themail.com  
FROM: tstark at MIT.EDU

 _Captain, my Captain,_  
Off saving the world? Building it to be a better place? Me, too. I have a thesis committee meeting. You might not know what that is – and it is best that you don’t know all the specifics. It is gruesome. But let me tell you, it is like the evil scientist parlay. And I’m the meat they are fighting over. Yay me! Anyhow, hope you’re out rescuing all the damsels in distress. 

Later!  
_Tony_

The next few were similar – apparently Tony decided to email him throughout the entire week. It was nice, and Steve smiled at each of them because they described little things about Tony – from his fascination with Legos, to his frustration with his thesis committee and even his new mentee.

TO: srogers at themail.com  
FROM: tstark at MIT.EDU

 _Steve_  
So this whole mentee, student thing is weird. I mean I can understand the fact that the kid idolizes me. Who wouldn’t? But this kid is like following me around all the time. Sometimes I feel like if I’m – you know taking a damned dump – he’s going to be hanging around in the stall like a damned spider or something. The kid needs to dial it down a notch or three hundred.

By the way, I was thinking about Thanksgiving. Are you going to see your mom? Do you even get off for the holiday? Do you have to stay all the way over there? That seems crappy. I mean I’m not doing anything for the holiday. Like I said, Dad is not a great family man and we don’t spend holidays together. It helps us stay a family – you know the family that ignores one another, stays together? Never heard of that one? Too bad, it is a CLASSIC! Anyhow, I’m gonna build a new Lego wall and put it up near Pepper’s side of the loft. She’s gonna love it. 

Take care (don’t get blown up)

_Tony_

Then the emails got shorter – just small missives of ‘hope you are okay’, ‘don’t party too hard’, and ‘there’s a whole other continent over here you are missing out on’. Steve read them, but didn’t worry much about it because they were at the end of the seven days that he’d planned to be gone. But then the emails turned, changed. Steve felt the anxiety creep up his nerves and his hands trembled on the keyboard as he read Tony’s words. Especially the last email that he wrote just yesterday.

TO: srogers at themail.com  
FROM: tstark at MIT.EDU

 

 _Steve_  
I’m sorry I’m such a mess, but you know, you in a war zone, me over here in the comfort of my lab in the middle of the fucking night. I don’t know, maybe you heard of me? Tony, Tony Stark – your assigned pen pal. You were supposed to email me, or skype, or fucking write me a letter. Are you alive? Shit, maybe you’re not? Would anybody even tell me? I’m not on the list, I know I’m not on the list. Is there a list? There has to be a list. Why would I be? Do you have a list of people who would be informed if you died? 

Shit, that’s a crappy thing to ask – isn’t it? Just don’t be dead, okay?

I just don’t want you to be dead. 

Anything, send anything, a god damned pigeon or owl or what the hell a raven with Winter is coming and an assassin – I don’t care. Just tell me you’re still alive.

_Tony_

Steve shook a little as he stared at the words. He thought about how often his mother cried on his shoulder when he was deploying, how it must feel for her, and now it was the same for Tony. Maybe not the same, but he had someone over there who seemed to care. Care enough to get a little – well- frantic. He hit the reply and tried to write a response. ‘I’m alive’. ‘We were delayed’. With his mother, it was easier, much easier. It was all about soothing her nerves, telling her that everything went great but he found that he wanted to say more to Tony, tell him more. Tell him how genuinely awful it was and that he just needed someone to know that it damn well scared him, but he made it. Everything he wrote seemed inadequate, so he canceled the email and went to the skype computer at the command center.

He checked the time. Would Tony be around at 6 pm? No idea. So, Steve just tried it. He would try and hope and maybe Tony would be there. At least, if he wasn’t Tony would see that Steve tried to call and would know that everything was all right, everything was okay.

It took a while to place the skype call, but he was sitting there with his coffee cooling and his arms around himself waiting for the pick up and connection. When he thought it wouldn’t happen, it suddenly connected and Tony’s face was far too close to the camera. 

“God damned it, son of a bitch,” Tony said and the computer tumbled out of his hands. The screen blurred into a mess of images with the sounds of clatter and cursing in the background. For a second, Steve feared that Tony killed his computer but then he must have scooped it up and placed it securely on what looked like a bed. Steve got a view of Tony in a muscle shirt and pajama bottoms. Behind him a pile of pillows reached up to the wall of windows. Tony scrubbed at his face and then laid his hands on his head as he squinted and looked at the computer. “It is you, right? I’m not dreaming?”

“Yeah, Tony, it’s me. Steve – are you okay? Isn’t it like six pm over there?” Steve calculated the time again and he was sure that he’d gotten it right.

Tony glanced to the side and then back again. “Yeah, just about. But you’re alive. That’s great, that’s good.” He slammed his hand down and it would have been dramatic except he pounded on a thick quilt and it only upset the computer again. Steve heard a curse and then Tony adjusted the computer. “Fuck you, Steve, fuck you.”

“Tony, I mean I-.”

Tony covered his face with his hands and then dropped them. “You know, Rhodey is in the Air Force, and fuck he’s in Germany. I don’t have to fucking worry that he’s lying in a ditch somewhere dead. But you – you said a week. It’s been more than a week, Steve. Way more than a week. And seriously, I couldn’t even get in touch with you. Where the hell were you? What the hell, Steve!”

Steve survived battles, hand to hand combat, his mother’s guilt, but Tony’s outrage hit him with the power of a storm. Pelting him and he cringed at the fierceness of Tony’s reaction. “Tony, I just got back. I haven’t even talked to my mother yet. I’m sorry. I didn’t have any way to contact you.”

Tony took several deep breathes and then shook his head. “You know, Pepper tells me I should meditate, to calm myself down. But you know – I couldn’t think of anything else.”

Steve rubbed a hand over his mouth and chin because he felt both a little happy, if he admitted to himself that Tony reacted this way and upset. Steve knew he should be ashamed of himself. “Tony, I am sorry, I should have thought about it. But I didn’t have the ability to contact you. Comms were only to be used for official business on the mission.”

Tony glared at him, and then moved closer to his computer screen, tilting his head as he stared at Steve. “You look like shit.”

“Well, thank you for that,” Steve said and then smirked. “You look like you’ve been asleep for a day and half.” Steve tried not to take it all to heart, but it hurt to hear what he’d done to Tony. He should have stayed in bed, and then he looked over at the secure computer and how his report remained blank. He should have just bit down and did his work.

“Well, I think Pepper finally gave me something,” Tony said and whipped his hand in his hair again; it stuck up at all angles. “Steve, you can’t – well, maybe I’m just not cut out for this. Maybe I should drop the class.”

“What?” Steve said and the idea of it pounded in his chest like the sound of heavy fire in a battle. “No, Tony, I will do something about this – I swear. I will. I’m sorry, I didn’t know it would affect you so much. If I’d known I would have had someone contact you.”

“Someone, crap, anyone.”

Steve peered closely into the camera and tried to make it that he was gazing into Tony’s eyes. That was always hard to pull off over this type of thing. “I promise you. I do. If there’s anything I can do about it, I will. Okay?”

Tony inhaled, exhaled, and then nodded. “Okay, okay. I might be a little buzzed from the Benadryl or whatever the hell Pepper gave me to sleep. Sorry.”

“Well, I’m sorry too.”

They sat for a moment, silent and repentant. Tony shrugged and said, “So the mission, how’d it go?”

“Fine, in the end. We took some fire and it wasn’t great. The last seventy-two hours of it we ended up having to stay awake and alert to ensure we weren’t attacked. I can’t tell you much more than that.” Steve lifted his hand to pick some sleep out of his eyes.

“You must be fucking tired,” Tony said. “And what’s with the wrist? Did you get hurt?”

“Exhausted, but I’m a little hyper- I did try to sleep but I woke up in the middle of the night. So I’m at the command center trying to put my report together.” Then he looked at his wrist where the shrapnel decimated his watch. Blues and purples blossomed in a spectacular bruise. It would be fine. There was only a little swelling. “My watch took a hit. Afraid it didn’t survive.”

“Shit, you could have lost your hand with that kind of hit,” Tony said and he turned a little green.

“Don’t – Tony. It didn’t happen. I’m fine, I’m good.” He twisted his wrist around to show Tony that there was nothing to worry about – and then winced a little at the slight pain.

“Ah! You are not fine. Put ice on that or something. For fuck’s sake before I have a heart attack. You know I have a weak heart. I have a fucking pacemaker. Should Pepper be giving me stuff when I have a pacemaker?” Tony asked and started wandering off on all the things he could have and couldn’t have. Steve wasn’t too sure that Tony seriously had a pacemaker or not.

“Hmm, Tony, I don’t know about any of that?” Steve said as Tony rattled on about pharmacological contraindications for patients with pacemakers. “You look pretty healthy to me.” He sat back and sipped his coffee. It was a little cold. “Hold on, I’m gonna warm this up.” He went to the only working microwave in the village and zapped his coffee for 30 seconds. He came back to the computer and Tony had his shirt off. A scar under his clavicle as well as scars along his chest indicated the truth. “Damn, Tony, I didn’t know.”

“Yeah this scar,” he said as he pointed to the larger one that was more in the center of his chest. “Happened in a car accident. The little one here, that’s under my collarbone. That’s where the pacemaker is inserted. I’m 23 and I’m working on two doctorates and I have a pacemaker because of a stupid choice.” 

“What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?” Steve said and sat back in his chair. It took a while for Tony to tell him about the partying and the poor choice he made. It hurt to watch the torment of emotions cross over Tony’s face as he described the bruising to his cardiac muscle, and the infection that ravaged his heart. He’d nearly died. “Tony, that’s – I don’t know how you deal with it. You’re brave every day to keep up your work and your goals. That’s incredibly difficult.”

“Well, it doesn’t take courage to want to keep living,” Tony said.

“Doesn’t it?” Steve said. “To me it does. Today, I have to spend time with each member of my unit, making sure the mission that we went on that almost went to hell – well, that it didn’t eat away at their minds. It’s hard, you know, to want to keep fighting for the right thing, to make the world a better place, when so many different people are so against it. They just want to blow the world to hell and they don’t give a crap about kids or schools or anything that’s important. Not anymore. So I have to go to them and talk to them and see if they need help.”

“Will they tell you?” Tony said as he struggled with his shirt. 

“Most of them. I think they will. I’ve tried to keep the unit close and to also make sure they trust me. One of the reasons they are all supporting me to continue in this program so my position as leader of the unit really becomes that promotion to Captain. Right now, I’m promoted on paper only,” Steve said. 

Tony studied him for a minute as he pulled the shirt back over his head. “So, who talks to you?”

“Hmm, what do you mean?” Steve asked and drank his coffee. He knew what Tony meant, he didn’t have an answer.

“I mean, you said you’ll talk to each guy and gal in your unit, but who talks to you about things?” He pulled the computer toward him as he snuggled under the comforter. Steve envied him. 

“I don’t know – I mean I talk all the time to people, to Sam, to Bucky. Even Peggy, yeah I talk to Peggy,” he replied and even he could tell that he was trying to convince himself.

“You need someone to talk to, too,” Tony said.

“Well, I’m talking to you,” Steve said and he meant it to be a smart reply. 

“I don’t know if that counts,” Tony said as he reclined against pillows and placed the laptop on his abdomen. “But since you think talking to me does count, let’s talk a little about that?”

Steve huffed out a breath. “Missions are like that. They can go to hell. We did a good job making sure no civilians got injured and that the unit sustained no injuries-.”

“Wrist,” Tony popped up and said.

“Minor cuts and bruises don’t count. At least not in the big picture. But you know – this guy on the strike team – when we got back. He was nice and said he would help with the unloading of the supplies,” Steve said and shook his head. “I mean, Rumlow’s not that kind of guy. He only volunteers for something if it means he gets to blow up something or kill things. He’s that kind of person. But here he was trying to be nice.”

“Maybe he’s turning over a new leaf?” Tony said.

“Maybe, I just – then he said something to me about how friendly fire is such a bitch. You know that in a battle, when things get confusing it’s hard to distinguish the good guys from the bad and getting shot by your own is more common than most people think especially in close quarters.” Steve couldn’t explain it, not well enough, how antsy and off putting Rumlow’s comment made him. It caused all of his instincts to itch. “I don’t know. I don’t know why he said it. And it, you know, upped my anxiety about having the strike team so close.”

“But they’re there for a reason.”

Steve nodded. He couldn’t tell Tony that the region had been hotly contested between different factions from the Afghan government to the Taliban to the local warlords to even the Pakistani government. With the bridge going in – things would get worse and uglier. The villagers were celebrating while all of the players were lining up. “Yeah, you’re right they are. I should trust him.”

“I didn’t say that. If you have instincts that are telling you otherwise, maybe you don’t have all the facts – that’s all I’m saying. Plus, you need to make sure you’re safe. Not only for your team but for you too, Steve. I have a feeling you spend a lot of time making sure everyone else is safe and not enough time for you,” Tony said.

“You’re being particularly insightful today,” Steve said. 

As he yawned, Tony nodded and bumped the computer a little. “It happens when I get sleep. Then I get tired to get more sleep.”

“Well, I should let you go, then,” Steve said. “I’m sorry, again. Tony. I really am. I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“You’re forgiven as long as you keep yourself safe.”

Steve smiled and he liked to watch Tony get drowsy. He thought about how it would feel to be lying in bed with him, tucked close to him, under the comforter – warm and safe and embraced. He jerked out of the image and chuckled a little. Tony didn’t miss it.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Steve said and waved him off. “I should let you go.”

“Okay,” Tony said but then he sat up straight and caught the computer before it tumbled off of him. He placed it on his legs and tilted the screen. “Hey, are you getting time off for Thanksgiving? Going to see your mom?”

“Hmm, I think we will. I mean I requested it, but I think I probably will give it up. I mean I only have a four day pass – can’t make it all the way back to the States in that time, plus Ma is over in Arizona with Bucky’s family for the winter.” He tried not to let his imagination run away with him, but he swore he saw Tony blush as he sat there.

“So, how about meeting me in Germany?” Tony said.

His heart pounded hard in his chest and that image came back to him again. The image that involved Tony tucked close to him in a warm and lush bed. “Hmm, what?”

“Yeah, come to Germany for a few days,” Tony said and smiled. “I’m going over there to meet Rhodey for the holiday, and I thought you might like to join us?”

Steve didn’t know why he felt let down. He should be happy and thrilled that Tony even thought of him, but he didn’t want to be a third wheel. He’d done that enough on Bucky’s dates. All those double dates – poor Bucky setting him up with girl after girl only to find out he missed the target completely. “I don’t know. I’ll stick around here. I think.”

“Come on,” Tony said. “Rhodey would like it. I would like it.”

“I don’t want to intrude,” Steve said and tried to move the conversation toward closure. “I have to g-.”

“No, I really need you to come. I’m bringing Pepper with me. I’m trying to set up Rhodey and Pepper. I’m going to be the fifth wheel if you don’t come.” He pleaded and then – seriously fluttered his eyelashes at him. Steve couldn’t help but laugh. “Is it working, my flirting and sweetness?”

Steve shook his head. “I’ll think about it.”

“Well do it fast, I’m buying the tickets tonight. Get with it!” 

He suppressed (or tried to) his smile, but burst out with laughter anyhow. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. Like I said a four day pass is nothing with travel.”

“Come on, you can do it, even if it is a few hours. You know you want to, I’ll feed you well,” Tony said with a quirk of his eyebrows that even made the aches and pains of the road fade away. 

“Okay, okay, you have tortured me enough, I’ll see if I can get transport out of the village and to the nearest base for flight out. Not promising anything.” Steve held up his hands. “So don’t count on it.”

“See you there, I’ll send you the information in an email tonight.”

“Okay.” He had to admit; he’d thought this was a bad assignment with Tony Stark, but things were definitely going down a road he hadn’t seen. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Tony pointed at the camera. “You better.”

With another smile, Steve signed off. He spent the rest of the early morning hours filing his report. Colonel Phillips startled him at o six hundred as he walked into the command center. 

“Well, look at this, the good Captain isn’t sleeping.”

“That’s not it, sir,” Steve said and jumped up to salute the Colonel. “I was just finishing up my report on the mission.”

“And how long have you been at it?” 

“Not long-.” He swallowed down the lie when Phillips scowled at him. Security logged him in so he had no way of hiding the fact that he’d been here most of the night. “O-200, sir.”

“That’s enough of that,” the Colonel said. “You need a break, Captain. I don’t like it when my soldiers aren’t getting sleep. You need to go back to your cot and get some shut eye. You get that?”

Steve nodded. “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” He knew he would never sleep. He agreed only because he had to, it was a requirement of his station in life, in the army. He gathered up his mug and his report.

“You’re not really going to sleep, so why don’t you make plans for that four day pass?” Phillips said. 

Steve glanced away, not sure how to take the supportive comment from the gruff Colonel. “Yes, sir.”

“Talk to your mother, call a friend. Make your Thanksgiving plans. I don’t care, but take care of yourself.”

Steve nodded again and decided now might be an excellent time to approach getting transport out of the village for Thanksgiving. “I have a friend, who is going to be in Germany for the holiday. I was wonderin-.”

“Yes, absolutely. Agent Carter will be going to Germany around that time. She’s flying back to Britain for a report out. You can take the same transport she’s taking.” The look in the Colonel’s eyes caused Steve to do a doubt take – something was up, but he refused to look at gift house in the mouth.

“Thank you, sir.” He left after washing out his mug and putting it away. His report filed, he went to his tent only to see Peggy walking across the installation. He switched his path and followed her. “Hey Peggy?”

She peered over her shoulder and smiled. “Steve, nice to see you. Good sleep?” 

Now he got it. “You told Colonel Phillips.” He couldn’t even fathom how she knew he didn’t sleep last night, that he really barely slept at all during the mission. She looked much more refreshed than Steve felt. Showered, smart in her uniform, hair up in a braid. She couldn’t have slept all that long either. 

She cocked a smile at him and then said, “If I didn’t, how would you ever take care of yourself, Steve?”

She had him there, so he shrugged. He joined her for breakfast in the mess but as soon as Colonel Phillips saw him and his commanding officer’s eyes darkened, Steve gave it up and went back to his barracks. He slept – a bit – but that’s what life was in the army. Sleeping became an illusion. As he rested, he thought about Tony – about the imagined idea of cuddling close to Tony and how it would feel to have someone. 

He’d only just come out as gay to his friends and his unit. He knew for a few years, of course. Told his mother a couple of years ago. She had been supportive and kind, kept telling him to open up to Bucky – because the poor man had a mission to set Steve up constantly. So, he did and was surprised at how respectful Bucky was about the whole thing – of course, it didn’t stop Bucky from setting Steve up – just changed the gender of the person. He rolled his eyes and then rubbed at them. He was over tired. He couldn’t get to sleep, but his mind drifted to Tony.

How would it be to have a coffee with him? Maybe play xbox or go to the movies. What kind of movies did he like? How about sporting events? Maybe go to a baseball game – he supposed Tony didn’t much like sports, who knows? He’d sent dozens of emails, some letters, talked to him over skype and he didn’t know that simple fact. He found he wanted to know more, longed to know more. And just then he comprehended how deep he’d fallen. An assignment – a class – not a romance. Tony might not talk about whether or not he had a guy, but the fact was Tony was a handsome, smart, incredibly wealthy guy – who was Steve? 

“Just a kid from Brooklyn,” he muttered and curled over onto his side with his head pillowed on his arm. Tony would never lower his standards for someone like Steve – who went into the army right out of high school just so he could afford an education. “Never.” He had to get it out of his head that Tony could possibly ever be interested in him. 

Over the course of the next week, he trained himself not to immediately think of Tony when something happened – he stopped the thought ‘can’t wait to tell Tony about this little girl who excitedly jabbered on to her father about the new school.’ He cut short any ideas about how he would tell Tony he could go to Germany, he had permission and a way to get there. He should just shut that down right away. He used the discipline instilled in him by the years in the army to keep mission focused. 

But then the letter came.

And changed everything.

 _Steve_  
Don’t look at the date of this letter. It is not dated hours after I skyped with you after your mission. I did not just wallow around thinking about you. That is not something the great and powerful Tony Stark does (and I am not the Wizard of Oz – though crap I could be). Anyhow, don’t look at the date. 

I made the plans in Germany. We will be in Heidelberg, Germany. I hope you like Heidelberg, it kind of reminds me of all those little old fairy tales by the Brothers Grimm. Quaint, charming, and a little peculiar and a tiny bit creepy if you ask me. I made four hotel reservations at Europäischer Hof Heidelberg. It’s a family run place. My dad did some business with the family a few years back so we get a floor there when we go. So I ordered up four rooms. One is in your name. So I went ahead and made the reservations. Not sure when you will get there, but you’re all set for the Wednesday before Thanksgiving all the way through to the Monday after. So whenever you’re good. Just tell me. 

It’ll be fun. We can drink beer and eat a lot of sausage. And stuff.  
_Tony_

Steve stared at the letter for a full minute before his focus drifted up to the date. It was the same date that he’d last spoken to Tony via skype. The very same day that Steve had vowed to put his hopes and wishes away, because it was never happening. He folded the letter as his buddies came into the command center. 

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. “Someone’s in love.”

“Someone’s drunk on the job,” Steve replied. 

Sam looked between the two of them and frowned. “I’m betting Bucky might have this one right.” 

Steve tucked the letter into his pocket, closing the Velcro. “Sam, I have to say I’m a little disappointed with you.”

“And I am a little curious?” Sam said as he leaned against Steve’s desk. 

The fans were going and it was mid-November but they were hitting an unseasonable heat wave. Steve had only his ACU pants with his regulation drab olive green t-shirt. He considered Sam and Bucky, and then back to Sam again. “You know it makes me sad to see how much he’s influenced you.”

Sam started and shook his head. “The only reason this slacker even gets out of bed in the morning on time is because of me.”

“And one wonders why you’re interested in his bed?” Steve threw out and Bucky whooped.

“How my lessons and my evil plans have worked here.”

Steve only rolled his eyes as his companions tossed about insults and then they all made their way to lunch. All the while the letter in his pocket felt warm with potential.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 7

His hands were sweaty. He glanced down at them, staring at his palms. He should not be sweating. He peered around the too pink lobby of the hotel. The lobby felt like he fell into a hole in space made completely out of bubble gum. How could anything be so pink? He didn’t remember it being so pink from his childhood.

Everything from the furniture to the area rugs were a shade of pink, rose, cerise, cherry. It was damned near revolting. Or would have been if it wasn’t so fucking luxurious at the same time. The Europäischer Hof Heidelberg sat near the heart of Heidleberg, a college town known to be the scientific center of Germany – thus Tony’s preference for it. Established in 1865, the hotel was managed by a family known to do international business with important and famous people across the globe including the Stark Empire. Throughout his childhood, when they stopped in Germany, his family always detoured to Heidelberg and this hotel. Why was it so pink?

The lobby or lounge seemed to run on for decades, with cozy areas for eating, reading, or just people watching. Upholstered chairs (in variations of pink) situated around glass tables peppered throughout the lounge area. Dark woods paneled the back walls but the square pillars throughout the main lounge were mirrored to reflect the brilliant light fixtures. It was all so beautiful, so perfect. 

He winced as if someone hit in him the gut.

The whole place reeked of wealth and luxury. Tony ran a hand through his hair and grimaced. Wrong, wrong, wrong. The hotel was a bad idea. He glanced over at Pepper as she stood with him in the lobby, awaiting Steve’s arrival in Germany. Tony wanted to look at his phone again, check the text again, but what was the use? He had it memorized.

_Arrived! Getting a taxi. Be there soon_

It even had little smiley faces. Doom settled over him and he groaned. Pepper frowned at him and acted as if she might question him but he only shook his head trying to ward her off. He shouldn’t have asked Steve here; he should have left well enough alone. He needed to start keeping in mind that he only knew Steve because of a stupid English class run by the evil and sly Professor Fury. 

“I still want to know how you know Natasha,” Tony muttered as they waited.

Pepper side-eyed him and smirked. “She’s in my classes, Tony. You know that.”

Meeting Natasha had been a fleeting thing to Tony, he’d thought he’d never have to deal with her again but then she exploded into his life and kept coming back like a bad penny or Russian poison – one or the other depending on how much in jeopardy he felt. Even as he planned his Thanksgiving getaway, Natasha poked her nose into it and snickered at him when she found out that he was meeting Steve.

“So, you’re not going for the pass/fail anymore, I take it?” Natasha had said one gloomy mid-November day. He made the mistake of saying hello to her in the coffee bar off campus.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony said and looked at the time on his phone. Happy was supposed to come and pick him up. His mother always scheduled a pre-Thanksgiving outing with him because she felt guilty for leaving him alone on the holiday. 

“I heard you were going to Germany to meet up with a certain soldier,” Natasha had said as she poured what might have been her fifth sugar packet into her coffee.

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Natasha had picked up her sugar overloaded coffee, smiled before she tasted it, and then winked at him as she said, “Well, that’s not what I heard.”

Tony very rarely cursed Pepper, but he had done it right there at the café. She’d told Natasha about their plans to go to Germany, as well as adding on the little fact that he had invited Steve along with them. He didn’t deny it any further, but he refused to engage Natasha on the subject. Luckily, Happy had appeared at the entrance to the coffee shop and Tony escaped anymore interrogation by the Russian assassin (or that’s what Tony chose to call her to Pepper all the time). 

Of course, that hadn’t been the end of his troubles. Happy escorted him out to the limo waiting for him, but the man’s jittery attitude stopped Tony in his tracks. “Tell me he’s not there.”

“I could but that would make me a liar, and my Mama never liked liars,” Happy said and his expression turned sorrowful. “I’m sorry, Mister Stark, but your father insisted.”

“Is Mom even in there?” Tony had said and pointed to the car with the hand that carried his overly large coffee.

Happy shook his head. “Your father told your mother that he would handle it.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? This is a mother-son outing. How can he handle that?”

That was when Howard popped out of the limo and demanded Tony get in the damned car. It was not a great afternoon. The whole scene ended up on display as Natasha walked out of the café and met up with her friend Clint just at the moment Howard screamed at Tony. Even hard of hearing Clint had flinched. 

Tony tried to forget it, tried to forget the intervening week between convincing his father that his work meant something and nearly going nuts because Howard would not tell him what happened to his mother. It took some time, but eventually Tony found out that his mother had actually sent Howard to meet up with him because she had taken ill with a bad cold – nothing dramatic. It still scared the crap out of Tony. He didn’t think he could look Howard in the face again after he accused him of spousal abuse (it hadn’t been true – but the fear of Howard hurting his mother riled Tony). 

Eventually, when his mother had been up to it, she had called Tony and set the record straight. They would get together around Christmas, and not to worry, she had everything in hand – didn’t she always. Which was true. Though she could never get Howard and Tony on the same page, she commanded the room when she entered it and Howard acquiesced more often than not. The one thing she never forced Howard to do was celebrate holidays. He detested holidays. 

While Tony had squared everything away with his mother, the fact remained that a group of people on campus had been lucky enough to witness Howard in all of his glory. It sucked and he tried to get over it, but sometimes he couldn’t adult – sometimes he just went home and sat on his bed with its corvette headboard, and stared at his Lego wall. Sometimes he wanted to forget that he had research to do, a mentee to keep mentoring (who knew that the mentor – mentee relationship was supposed to continue during the entire Junior year for the kid). 

He’d skyped with Steve soon after and it had been sweet and fun and they forgot about everything else. Tony told Steve about his work, but then veered off and they started to debate the merits of Star Trek verses Star Wars. Tony happened to be more of a Star Wars fan while Steve sat on the side of Trek.

“Really?” Steve had asked. “I would have thought you were a Trekkie. I mean Mister Engineer, all the stuff that Star Trek has essentially predicted we would have-.”

“See that is the reason, that’s the very reason!” Tony had said and pointed at the screen. It was a late night and Tony was sitting in the middle of his bed, finishing off a pizza, and trying to forget everything his father had done lately. “I don’t want any more reality. Television, movies, the whole shebang is about escaping the world around us. I don’t want to see anything based on reality.”

“So you don’t go to movies like, I don’t know, Hidden Figures?”

“I did not say that, I did not say that.” He knew he had –and that just forced him further down the rabbit hole with Steve. It was light and refreshing and nice to disagree without worrying someone might not love you after the argument. 

“So it’s about Star Wars,” Steve said and shook his head. “Why? Why?”

“It’s the Jedi. I mean, what kid hasn’t walked around with a tree branch for a light saber – other than you, of course.”

Steve giggled and hung his head. “I did – I happened to have my very own tree branch light saber.”

“What color?”

Then they got into a discussion about light saber colors and what it meant. At one point, Tony was sure that their professor, Nick Fury, might be a twin of one of the Jedi. By that time, Steve had been laughing so hard he could barely breathe. After he finished talking to Steve, Tony realized that slowly over the weeks, his ‘pen pal’ had become his reprieve. The one person Tony could talk to frankly as well as ridiculously and not worry about the repercussions. 

So, now that it came down to actually spending time with Steve, Tony felt like his heart performed double flips in his chest. He kept touching where his pacemaker sat and Pepper, standing next to him in the lobby of the Europäischer Hof Heidelberg, quietly pushed his hand away.

In a low voice she said, “It’s fine, Tony. He’s going to like you just fine.”

“I don’t see how that could be. I’m still me,” Tony said and grimaced. He rarely exposed his own inner wounds so outright like that, even to Pepper. She gazed at him. Her heels made her about two inches taller than him but he didn’t flinch. 

“Don’t do that – I don’t like when you put down my best friend,” Pepper said.

He should have taken it to heart and thought how nice it was that Pepper thought of him that way. Instead he had to scratch at the itch. “I thought Natasha was your new bestie.”

“She will be if you keep acting like this,” Pepper said with a glare. He swore she was taking lessons from the Russian assassin. 

He turned away from her and bounced on his heels. Swinging his arms and clapping, he said, “Where is he? Shouldn’t he be here by now?”

“You know what James said about the military transports; they can be late due to other missions. What did Steve tell you about the transport?” Pepper said but she checked her watch all the same.

“Said that he was getting a ride with Peggy. Something about a helicopter to, I don’t know, somewhere and then a flight out of there. Doesn’t matter. He said he arrived.” He shook his head. He went to dig out his phone when the doors swept open and Steve walked into the lobby of the hotel. 

And he was in his class A uniform. Tony thought right then and there he might drop over and die. The cut of the dark blue jacket (yeah it was dark blue – those browns went away decades ago – he kept telling himself) against the lighter blue slacks nearly shot Tony in his unhealthy heart. He swallowed back a whistle. He expected Pepper to say something as Steve searched the busy lobby for them, but then Tony remembered she’d never met him. How could she have never met his biggest crush?

Admitting that nearly sank him before he even got a chance to swim.

He tugged on Pepper and hauled her over to the entrance of the hotel. “Steve,” he said. Tony called a second time through the arriving crowd and Steve snapped to attention and found him easily. He smiled, practically beaming and picked up his duffle as he carefully wove through the crowd. 

“Tony, it’s great to see you. Sorry I’m late. The traffic from the airport-.”

Tony waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. And wow, look at you! You never get dressed up for our skype calls.” Tony really did think that his brain might explode out of the top of his skull. Steve’s shoulder to waist ratio felt like it branded its way onto Tony’s brain cells. 

“Oh, sorry.” He pressed a hand down his jacket. “I wanted to change. Peggy had a big meeting with some very important people. Since we were traveling together, I promised to wear my class As.” He looked everywhere but at Tony, obviously self-conscious about being the dressed-up member of the party. Tony only wore jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt while Pepper wore a thick sweater and jeans as well.

“Don’t be silly,” Pepper said and outstretched her hand. “I’m one of Tony’s few friends. Virginia Potts, but you can call me Pepper. Sometimes I like to be called Rescue, because let’s just face it, Tony is in need of rescue a lot.”

“Oh, is he?” Steve said and his cheeks looked flush – not just from the cold rain outside. He met Pepper’s gaze. “It’s nice to meet you, Pepper. I’ve actually heard quite a bit about you. So I should probably thank you for keeping Tony on task and making sure he writes to me.”

She laughed and shook her head. “Oh, the writing to you, that’s all on him. Other than his research, it’s the one thing Tony does willingly without a kick in the butt every now and again.” 

Tony decided right then and there that Natasha’s evil infected Pepper. Meanwhile Steve gawked at Tony with such a blush on his cheeks that Tony couldn’t come up with anything to deny the allegation. It took some stuttering but finally Tony said, “Ignore her, you want something to eat? You gotta be hungry. Big guy like you?”

Steve placed a hand on his abdomen – which was not a gut at all. “I could eat.” Then he surveyed the lounge area of the hotel and twisted his mouth into a smirk. “Don’t think I could afford anything here. Don’t even think I should check in here.”

Tony chuckled. “This is on me. Actually dear old dad, and considering the shit he’s put me through lately, I think we should order the best of the best. What do you think, Pep?”

She only giggled and cleared her throat as Steve looked a little lost. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can-.”

“Listen, Captain, don’t worry. My dad and mom always feel guilty – well my mom at least – feels guilty for leaving me during the holidays. So I get this big expense account that she expects me to spend to have a good time. It’s actually Howard’s only way to express his love.”

“I’m not sure,” Steve said and hadn’t moved from the spot in the lobby just north of the doors. 

Tony sidled up to Steve and bent toward him as if conspiring (and maybe he was just a little). “Come on, this is my holiday. I want to forget that my parents don’t spend the end all of all family holidays with me. So please?”

Steve considered Tony, his eyes bright and sad at the same time. After a second, he bobbed his head and said, “Sure, okay.”

“Great, let’s go up to the room. We can get room service and watch porn.” Tony inwardly flinched, that might not have been the way to go right at first. His nerves always tended to take over when he wanted to impress. But why impress? Why? Steve wasn’t ever going to be his boyfriend, just a friend. Tony had so few friends.

Steve hesitated and stammered over a reply. Thankfully for him, Pepper jumped in. “Don’t worry, Tony isn’t going to make you watch porn. He likes porn, but he won’t make someone who isn’t comfortable watching it, watch it.”

“I’m not, I mean I don’t-.” Steve stopped, screwed up his mouth, and then continued, “Can we just watch a movie, like a regular movie?”

Tony laughed and slapped him on the back. “Sure, anything you want.” He tried not to freak out about it, the idea that maybe Steve blanched at the idea of watching a dirty movie because of some screwed up idea or prejudicial homophobia. He just skipped a head of Steve and gestured for him to follow. Pepper gave him ‘the look’ but he pretended not to see it. Instead he introduced the hotel.

“You like the place? Been around in the mid-1800s. Old, historic. My parents know the owners. We get a floor,” Tony said and now he felt like he was bragging and that wasn’t nice – but shit, how nice was it that this narrow-minded lug head couldn’t watch gay porn? Okay, that did not sound right. 

Pepper stepped up to save him. She fell behind a step so that she could walk with Steve instead of Tony. “So, do you like history, Steve?”

“Hmm, yes? I kind of have a passion for World War II history. When I was a kid all I could talk about was elefant tanks, according to my Ma.”

“I have never ever heard of them,” Pepper said. Tony spun around and walked backward as they headed to the elevators.

“Big, huge tanks. Porsche designed them,” Tony said.

Of course, a huge smile blossomed across Steve’s face. “You know about the elefant tank?” 

Tony didn’t know whether to be happy or sad that Steve seemed so excited that Tony shared some obscure military knowledge. “Yeah, kind of as an engineering interest.”

Steve really popped up with enthusiasm as he spoke. “Did you know that the Porsche design brought the turret to the front of the superstructure of the tank? That brought the whole thing around for it to become a tank destroyer.” 

Tony smirked. “Yeah, I knew that. Of course, I knew that. Who doesn’t know that?” He found himself walking alongside Steve. Again, Tony cringed. What the hell was he doing? Why not just be nice? Was it impossible for Tony to be nice to the guy?

“Excuse you, I didn’t know that,” Pepper said and slipped her arm into Steve’s. 

Tony frowned at her. She was not here for Steve – she was here to put the smooths on Rhodey so that his two besties could get together and live happily ever after. 

“Well, I can tell you, Ma’am, some of the best people don’t know a lick about tanks.”

Tony guffawed and snorted. “He called you ma’am.” They stopped at the elevators, all the while as they were talking, Steve kept glancing around at the fiendishly pink hotel lobby and lounge. 

Now, he looked downright mortified. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you or anything.”

Pepper scowled at Tony. “What is wrong with you?” She squeezed Steve’s arm and said, “Don’t pay attention to him, he’s challenged in the way of being polite. Being nice to his guests is something he thinks is below him.”

“Hey,” Tony said.

“Is for horses,” Steve replied and then added, “Or as Bucky likes to say, the first stage of horseshit.”

Tony laughed, probably a little too hard, but at least it cut the tension that the stupid porn movie comment had injected into their reunion. The elevator arrived and they all entered. It was empty and Tony took out his keycard to hit the floor that had special access codes. The elevator started up as soon as it accepted Tony’s card. 

“Do I need to check in or something?” Steve said.

“Nope, I got your keycard. You just need to relax and have some fun,” Tony said. At least he could do was to make sure the guy relaxed during his short stay. “Must feel weird. Being here now, huh?”

“It’s always a little bit of an adjustment. One minute, you’re walking the perimeter with forty pounds of equipment on and a rifle, the next minute you’re in a very pink hotel in Germany.” 

Tony couldn’t help but allow the laughter to hit him. “Very pink. I mean it looks like someone threw up Pepto-Bismol in the lobby.” He snickered. “Well, it’s not bad in the rooms. You’ll like the rooms.”

“No, no,” Steve said. “It’s a beautiful hotel. Not in a million years did I think I would ever be able to stay at a place like this. I mean, I don’t – my salary doesn’t pay that well, you know.”

“And that’s a shame,” Pepper said. “So let Tony treat you for the weekend. It will be nice to put your feet up and relax.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it, ma-. Pepper.” He smiled and it looked boyish and charming. And shit, Tony thought they were flirting. Were they flirting? That was not what Tony wanted at all. 

“So,” Tony interjected because he needed to throw cold water at the fire, and remind Pepper why she was invited in the first place. “Do you and Rhodey have any plans for tonight?”

Pepper startled a bit as the elevator opened. “What?”

“Rhodey, remember. The tall, dark, and handsome guy from the Air Force that you are supposed to be interested in?” Tony glared at Pepper and then gave Steve a cocked brow so he would release her – which he did. 

“Rhodey? He’s your friend, right.” And then it must have dawned on Steve – or he remembered what Tony had told him – that Pepper was here as a set up. “Oh, yeah, right.”

“Lord, Tony, did you tell everyone that you’re trying to set us up. Stop trying to manage our lives. You can’t even figure out your own,” Pepper said. She stopped at door. “This is my room. Maybe we can have dinner – all of us –once you’re settled?”

“Sure, thank you. It was nice to meet you, Pepper.” Steve offered a slightly nervous smile and then Pepper entered her room, leaving Tony adrift on his own with this soldier dude.

“It’s been,” Tony failed at this in so many ways. “Great- great – out there great, like big time great to have you at the hotel.”

Steve frowned but then nodded as if he understood Tony’s anxiety. “Thanks for asking me. It would have been a sorry Thanksgiving.”

“Lonely?” Tony asked as they continued down the hallway of the hotel.

“No, not really. Most of my unit was staying in the village over the holiday to tell you the truth. Only a few of us got a pass. Peggy – but she’s British and that’s different. Plus Sam and me. That’s it. We really can’t rotate a lot of guys out if we’re trying to hold our ground.”

Tony hissed. He’d never really thought about holding ground. That stung. “So you have to worry about people taking over? Like other -.”

“The Taliban, the warlords, yeah,” Steve said and seemed so casual about it as if he talked about the deli meat selection. “But Colonel Phillips has it well in hand. I didn’t leave my responsibilities, if that’s what you think.”

Tony nodded as if it all made sense to him. It did not. So he gestured for Steve to follow him and they turned the corner and ended up in front of Steve’s room. “This is your room.” Tony dug out the card. “Your keycard will open it. Mine room is the next one down.”

“Okay, thanks, I-.” Steve glanced at his surroundings and, for a moment, Tony saw a lost boy look cross his face, but he concealed it. “Okay then, do you want to sync watches and figure out when dinner or whatever is?”

Tony chuckled. “I thought your watch took one for the team?”

Steve bit at his lower lip and raised an eyebrow. “Can’t get anything by you. So, how about send me a text? I want to get changed and maybe, shower?”

“Okay, that’s good. See you later.” 

Steve nodded a few times, stood silently – long enough to make it uncomfortable, but then he turned to his door, said ‘oh’ a few times and finally went into his room. As the door closed Tony heard a surprised gasp at the sight of the room. Tony screwed up his lips as he stood there and stared at the door. He shouldn’t have asked Steve to come; that was abundantly obvious. Sometimes people weren’t meant to be anything but letter buddies. Maybe that’s why back in the day people had great long distance romances – 

Shit. That was the problem. He needed to come clean with himself. Tony was hoping for romance and Steve was so obviously not gay. Tony had to clean out his brain and stop mooning after this guy. Just treat him to a fun few days because he had to go back to the front. Kind of like Daisy and William in that Downton Abbey show that Pepper made him binge watch one long weekend instead of going to lab. Wasn’t that a fucking waste of time? Hours spent watching that strange idea of a British soap opera, but the fact was he enjoyed it. Why wouldn’t he? Mindless, endless stuff and Maggie Smith. She was it, the reason why the world turned. Her and Betty White.

In front of him the door jerked open and Steve startled. “Oh, Tony, I mean – can I help you?”

“Why? What do you need?” He tried to pretend it was normal for him to be lurking outside of Steve’s room.

“Hmm, nothing, I was just going to – I mean, do you know.” He stopped, frowned, and then clamped his mouth shut. He shook his head, and mumbled ‘never mind’ before he closed the door again.

Tony thought if he tried to figure out that one he might hurt himself, so he decided to go to his room and sulk for a while. Why not? The most beautiful man in the world was in the room right there, next one over, and he couldn’t even hope. 

He walked into his room. The décor differed than the pink all over the lobby. The room’s lines were clean, the white pristine but not sterile. The tray ceilings gave height and character at the same time. The furnishings appointed the room with elegance, but it was a little too formal for Tony. Everything from the king sized bed to the great windows and the bathroom spoke of classic design and luxury. As a child he ran the halls and hated the formality. As an adult, he saw the comfort in it. He threw himself on the bed and stared at the gabled ceiling. 

“Shouldn’t have invited him.” It wasn’t that he didn’t like Steve – but hell, it was like inviting a fish to a dance in the desert. No legs, no water. More than just a fish out of water – this was epically wrong. Well, it would only be a few days. He could hold out a few days. Maybe get Rhodey to talk to him a little – though that would dash Tony’s plans to get Pepper and Rhodey together somehow. 

He ran a hand down his face. This was not going to go well at all.

It didn’t. 

Not that night. Tony tried to direct the conversation, but facing facts, he was never the type to lay the way for others and then step back. He seemed to keep placing mine fields and then triggering them all through the dinner. So much so that Pepper kicked him repeatedly. He ended up with black and blues on both of his ankles. Of course, it didn’t help that he felt a little antagonistic – and he didn’t know why. That was a lie, of course, he knew why. He was defensive and combative because he wanted something he couldn’t have. He inherited that little trait from his father. Thank you, Howard.

“You spent the whole time baiting him,” Pepper said later that evening as he sat on her bed and moaned about the evening.

“I did not.”

“Sure you did,” Pepper replied. “Even when you brought up television shows-.”

“Well, did you even listen to him? Peggy this, and Peggy that- every other word out of his mouth was about Peggy,” Tony said and then fell back on the bed.

“He talked a heap about Sam and Bucky, too.” Pepper leaned over Tony and smiled at him, her eyes glittering with amusement. “Seriously, Tony, you reek with puppy love. Why don’t you just ask him?”

"I am not in puppy love with him," Tony said and grumbled because he knew the truth of it. Damn, he should have stayed home and worked on his stability problem. For a moment he wondered if he was thinking about his reactor core or his own brain. Scowling, he sat up, scrubbed a hand over his face, and sighed in surrender. "He's not gay, Pepper. I'm not going to embarrass the guy and hit on him."

"How do you know? Did you ask him?" She was sitting on the bed next to him with her hair down, and a thick bathrobe tucked about her.

He shook his head. "I didn't have to. Did you listen to how he talked about Peggy? He adores her."

She stood up and crossed the plush carpet and went into the bathroom. She came out and leaned on the door frame. As she brushed her hair she said, "Adoration is different than being in love. You should know that more than anyone." She smiled at him with a glint in her eyes. She knew he adored her.

"Thanks, Pep." He got up and headed to the door.

"Let me paint your toenails. You'll feel better."

He waved behind him but shook his head. "Just because I'm gay doesn't mean I'm in need of nail polish."

She huffed. "You liked it every other time."

As he gripped the door knob he turned and winked at her. "I did it because I adore you, Pepper."

She smiled and then whispered, "Goodnight, Tony."

"Night."

As he shuffled off to his room, Tony realized how pathetic and terrible he'd been to Steve over the course of the dinner. Constantly baiting him about military service, calling it akin to signing up for prison, telling him the military would miss Stark Industry inventions. All the while both Pepper and Rhodey tried to run interference. Steve held his own even came back with a few upper cuts to Tony's privileged class. It was damned near nuclear in the pub they went to, explosive and heated. Not sexy and fun at all.

Why the hell was he being an ass? He knew exactly why. His commitment phobia had reared its ugly head and manifested as Tony the little fucker with an attitude. As he rounded the corner he ran smack into Steve. With his duffle, in a jacket and his boots.

"Oh," Steve said. "Sorry. I left a message with James when you didn't answer. I was going to text you."

"What? Why? Where are you going?" Tony kept looking at the duffle bag, at Steve's disgruntled expression, and his hands. There was dirt under one of his finger nails, dirt from Afghanistan, from his service, from his work. It ached in Tony’s chest. "No, no, no."

Steve cleared his throat, adjusted the strap of his duffle on his shoulder, and said, "Tony, it's best this way. We can-."

"Go on a tour of the castle tomorrow. Just you and me. How about that? I was just baiting you for Rhodey. You know how it is," Tony said and slung his arm around Steve's shoulders. "Old best friend, jealous of the new best friend."

"We're best friends now?" Steve smirked. "I don't think so. I'm not naive you know, Tony. I know when I'm not wanted."

"Then you gotta know I want you to stay. I can be an ass when I'm nervous, just ask Pepper." Tony tried to turn them around to face Steve's door again. "Please. Go with me tomorrow. Then have Thanksgiving dinner. If you want to leave after that I promise I won't stop you."

Steve eyed him for a few seconds and it felt like he was walking up the steps to the guillotine. He swallowed down his fear and waited until Steve finally relented.

"Okay, sure."

He managed to escort Steve the short distance back to his room. Once there Steve freed himself of Tony's arm and dropped the duffle. He pulled out the keycard and said, "See you tomorrow, then?"

Tony considers asking him down to the lounge to throw back a couple, but times like that didn't seem right. So he nodded and said, "Sure, round noon?"

"Great, it'll give me time to talk to my Ma." Steve opened the door and brought his bag in.

"Steve?" Tony said. When he turned back to Tony, the words almost dried up in his mouth. "Tha-thanks. For not leaving and giving my assholeness another shot."

Steve smiled ruefully. "Oh I know all about assholeness. I'm in the army after all." He left it at that and closed the door.

Tony didn't say anything in response. He just went back to his room and prayed he didn't fuck up tomorrow as bad as he did today. His damned commitment phobia – but then this couldn’t be about that – Steve wasn’t gay. Not at all. Look at him, how could he be gay? Tony opened up his room, and marched in. He felt like he should be marching, like a trooper. He needed to buckle up and start acting right and showing some respect. Instead, he flopped down on his bed face first. He stayed that way until he heard his phone chime.

He dug it out of his pocket, fulling expecting admonishment from Rhodey – a call to go to his room and get a dressing down. Instead it was Steve.

_We seem to communicate better this way._

_Oh I can be shitty this way too. Want me to try?_

It took only a second to get a reply. _No, I think I’ve seen enough for one night._

_Nice_

Without a pause, the response came. _I’m being shitty now. I’m sorry._

_Yeah, we’ve both proven we can be dicks. Let’s call a truce for tomorrow._

_Deal._

Tony sent a smiley face. In a second he received a smiley face in return. He tossed the phone on the bed and thought he should probably send a note to Rhodey, apologize for his behavior, but he didn’t have to because Rhodey showed up at his door within fifteen minutes, the note that Steve had given him clasped in his hand.

Rhodey flicked it at him and gave a good impression of a tiger about to pounce, but Tony put his hands up and said, “I already talked to him. He’s staying. I apologized.”

“You better.”

“I did.”

“Air Force might not like Army, but I’m going to bat for my fellow service man.” Rhodey looked like he was trying to give a good impression of a plank of wood – standing so straight and rigid.

“Stand down, General Rhodes. We got this.” Tony did eventually convince him and they spent the night with their tablets, pairing up and playing Minecraft. Of course, Tony out built everything Rhodey attempted. Eventually, Rhodey begged off and left the room, too tired and too disgusted with the amount of TNT Tony kept using to blow everything up. It was fun and Tony had to admit Rhodey always knew the exact medicine to help him relax and forget his concerns. 

By the time the next day and noon rolled around again, though, his nerves sang a different song. Every freaking nerve in his body tortured him with piercing screams of fear. What if Steve didn’t like him? What if Steve was just using him for a trip to Germany? What if Germany hated him? Was Germany the leader of the free world? Did Germany even have a space program? How come Germany was never part of Star Trek? Or was it? 

A knock on his door promptly had him furiously making sure his sweatshirt and jeans weren’t on inside out and backwards – this wasn’t the 80s. He rushed to the door and swung it open to find a perfectly coifed Steve standing there with his fingers tucked into his front jean pockets. Only his fingers, not his thumb. Didn’t that mean he felt he was dominant over Tony? Wasn’t that an aggressive move?

He needed to turn off his brain.

“Hey,” Steve said and ducked his head as if he was avoiding a low beam.

“Come on in.” Tony waved him to enter. He left Steve standing at the door and then went to pick up his wallet and phone. 

“Your room is pretty much like mine,” Steve said. “Pretty well over my budget.”

“All taken care of. Don’t worry about it,” Tony called from the bathroom and then hissed. Throwing money around was always rude. He needed to stop saying it. “I mean, it isn’t a big deal.” God that was worse.

“Well, I wanted to thank you. It’s really nice of you, and I’m not sure I said anything last night or even yesterday at all.” 

Tony finished trying to cause havoc with his hair and then did pick up his wallet and phone. He slipped out of the bathroom and smiled at Steve. “Can we forget yesterday happened?”

“If you want, though it was kind of amusing to see you try and catch me for doing my evil soldier things. Though I have to admit, I had planned to try and catch you doing your evil scientist trying to take over the world stuff, too.” Steve said as he leaned against the door.

“Really?”

He laughed and shook his head. “No, not at all. By the way, my mom says Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Oh that’s right. It is Thanksgiving,” Tony said. “We have a dinner tonight. The floor has a private lounge. So we can eat there.” 

The laughter faded and the expression on Steve’s face softened to earnest. “I did want to thank you, Tony. You didn’t have to put me up here, I could have stayed at the barracks. But it was really thoughtful of you to invite me so I could have someplace during the holidays – with my mom sick and all.”

Tony flicked his gaze around the room, not intending to but he found it impossible to meet Steve’s eyes. “Hey, you’re doing me a favor. Remember? I’m trying to set up my friends, I needed not to be the fifth wheel. So all’s good, right – in love and war.” He tried for a smile but worried it came out more like a grimace.

Steve returned it with a grin and said, “Okay, then let’s sightsee for the day, right?”

Tony clapped his hands, thankful to get out of that little heavy turn alive. “Yeah, yeah, I thought the castle first and then the Philosopher’s way – if that’s okay with you?”

“Sure, sure,” Steve said as Tony dug a coat out of his closet. It had flurried overnight and dusted the ground with snow.

They started out – a little uncomfortable but then Tony dove in as soon as Steve asked him how the experiments were running. It didn’t seem to matter they were so separated in their everyday lives. Steve asked intelligent, delving questions that really made Tony think and try and explain as best he could. It felt a little more like they were skyping again. After taking the rail up the Königstuhl hill, they toured Schloss Heidelberg, the castle and ruins. Even then Tony noticed how Steve read the pamphlet information, asking questions of the guide that weren’t the routine, everyday questions but were interesting and pointed. The guide even had to refer them to more literature because he didn’t know everything that Steve questioned. 

Tony couldn’t help but smile as others on the tour stared at Steve, gaping and awed by his knowledge of history. After a short lunch, they ended up on the Philosophenweg or Philosopher’s way, across the Neckar from the castle. 

“It’s really nice here in the summer,” Tony said as they climbed the path. “It’s weird because the plants and temperature are different than the rest of the valley, almost more like Southern Europe.”

“It looks like it might be a beautiful walk in the summer,” Steve said, with his hands stuffed deep into his jacket pockets. He paused in their amble through the winding pathway. “Though it is pretty nice here now.”

Tony glanced at the scenery, the landscape below them and across, the castle and its partial ruins, and the river glittering in the cold weather. He turned back to Steve only to find the soldier not gazing at the river or the castle, but at Tony. When their eyes met, Steve quickly turned away. Tony swallowed down the racing of his heart. It meant nothing, nothing at all. Just like when they started on the steep climb up the path, Tony very nearly tumbled down, but Steve caught him. Tony blinked away the memory. He didn’t need to dwell on Steve warm breath over him, his face so close - as he helped him up.

“It is pretty here,” Tony said, never taking his eyes off of Steve. He started to wonder, to fathom the idea of Steve – the idea that he might be available to Tony. “Might be a nice place to bring someone special, don’t you think?”

Steve laughed but it was a nervous giggle. “Yeah, I guess. Don’t know quite about that.”

“Oh, not Peggy?” Tony asked as they started their stroll along the treaded ground. The old stones and cobbled areas held some mystery to all of the students from the past. Here and there, in a kind of sacrilege to historical significance, the stones held carvings from centuries back.

“Oh, no, not Peggy. I told you. She’s not my girl,” Steve said with a shrug. “She’s nice, she likes me. A lot. But she’s – well – we could never.”

“Army regs?”

“Maybe, not. I-.” Steve only bowed his head and said, “No, not that.” He wasn’t making a lot of sense, like he wanted to say something else but fear crept up in his voice.

“So what is it? You like her. I can tell.” Tony knocked him with an elbow as they continued their walk.

Instead of answering, Steve diverted, “Well, what about you? Have a special guy?”

“Ha,” Tony said. “No. I have too much going on right now. I can’t afford the time for a guy.” He gave Steve a half smile. “I dated – but it didn’t work out. Not really well. I’m kind of commitment phobic anyhow. A love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy. Don’t want to get my heart stomped on.”

Steve sighed and said, “Well, I don’t think everyone wants to step on your heart, Tony.” 

“You’d be surprised.” Tony shrugged. “It works for me. You know, don’t want to get tied down. I got the world to conquer and all, with my evil scientific experiments.”

Steve chuckled. The cold had reddened his cheeks and his eyes glistened in the daylight – so blue and so crystalline that it almost reminded Tony of the sky reflected across the frozen lake. “Too busy for commitment. Too young as well, right?”

“Yeah. Come on, we got the world at our feet here,” Tony said and whipped around to see the whole of the river and the castle beyond as well as the city of Heidelberg. 

“I don’t think you’re going to be a villain, Tony. I think you’re destined for great things. Maybe a hero in your own right.”

“Blah, no way. I’m just an engineer.”

Steve smiled and the cold air make it crisp and brilliant somehow. “Not all heroes carry a shield.”

“So, what? We’re not kings but we’re heroes?” Tony cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled, “We’re superheroes!”

Chuckling, Steve looked out at the expanse as the snow started to lazily come down around them. “Superheroes bound to make the world a better place.”

Tony nodded. “Bound to get rid of all of the villains, the abusers, the bastards, the racists, every one of the villains. We must call all of the superheroes to our side and fight for justice, and, and, avenge those who have been opposed and stepped on and used.”

Now that glorious smile Steve gave Tony warmed his heart. Steve brought his hands to his mouth and yelled over the trees, through the snow, to the world beyond, “Avengers assemble!”

And that was when Tony knew he was screwed. Commitment phobia be damned. He was in love.

CHAPTER 8

“You seem pretty chipper today,” Bucky said as Steve strode across the compound, toward the main village. He wanted to buy a few trinkets for Tony from the market. Slinging his arm over Steve’s shoulders, Bucky jogged him about a little. “Come on, give it up. What happened on your little sojourn to Germany?”

Rolling his eyes, Steve shook his head. “Not much more than I told you, Bucky. We fought the first day, went sightseeing and had Thanksgiving dinner the second day, stayed in and played games on his tablet and watched movies the third – that’s it.”

“Only movies? No-.” Bucky jerked his hips a few times and gestured with his curled fist. “None of that?”

Steve scowled. “What are you, thirteen? No. I told you. No. Besides, he’s the love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy. And you know that’s not me.” A weather front had settled over the Kandahar Province and their little corner of it. It almost felt as cold as it was in Germany when Steve last set eyes on Tony. Even thinking that caused his heart to speed up and he swallowed down the giddiness and nausea. He had to separate out his feelings from his responsibilities. 

“It could be,” Bucky said with a shrug. “Hell, everyone knows you need a little something to relax. Maybe go see the guy at Christmas – you know, have a good time-.”

“No,” Steve said and pushed Bucky’s arm off of him. “Really, you sound as bad as Rumlow.” 

Bucky frowned at Steve and straightened his jacket. “No need to be insulting.”

“Sorry,” Steve said as he nodded to the passing local. He always tried to be as respectful as he could, considering the language and the cultural gap. “I just – I told you everything Bucky. It was a nice weekend away. I really like Tony, he’s a great guy.”

“But there’s something you’re not telling me,” Bucky said as they walked to the market area. Steve glared at Bucky, warning him to quiet – some of the locals did know a few words of English (even better than the few words that Steve knew in Pashto). Hence, he really didn’t want anyone here listening into his love lore issues with his male pen pal. Being homosexual was not only frowned upon in the Afghan culture, it could get you killed. 

Strolling through the market, Steve and Bucky kept silent but did comment to each other about the different wares and food. Steve purchased some dates while Bucky picked through a few different silk scarves. Steve had to wonder who he was thinking of but didn’t ask. Steve found a lot of things he would buy for his mom – which he did – from a woven blanket to a beautiful beaded change purse. He only found one thing for Tony. It was a handmade lock box. The iron work was intricate. The box itself was red with gold embellishments. He bought it and tucked it into the pack he carried.

Bucky only cocked a brow at him as they bought some food and then Steve thanked the vendor for the tea as well. They ended up sitting for a bit, sipping the tea and waiting on the food to be delivered to their small table.

After they ate their lunch and started back, Bucky hung close to Steve and he knew he was in for an interrogation. So, once they cleared the main part of the village and headed toward the command center, Bucky launched right back into it. “Come on, Steve – you’re not telling me something, right?” He poked at the pack Steve carried. 

“Please, Buck, it doesn’t matter,” Steve said and tried to head straight back to the barracks. He had duty in less than an hour and he had a few things he wanted to get accomplished – like write a thank you letter to Tony. 

“Yeah, it does,” Bucky said. “You seemed happy, Steve, really happy when you came back. Like I haven’t seen you that happy since – hell, I don’t even remember you ever being that happy.”

“It was fun,” Steve said as he looked up into the sun as it peeked through the thick clouds. “It was nice to get away from the stress, and, you know, just lay low for a while.”

That first day had been awful and Steve barely ate any of his dinner that night. He couldn’t even remember what he had for dinner at all. With Tony’s constant badgering of Steve while both Pepper and Rhodey tried to run interference – Steve really thought he wouldn’t make it through the coffee at the end of the meal. He finally got out of there and it had been Rhodes who apologized after Steve went back to his room.

“Listen, Tony’s a good guy. He really is,” Rhodes had said. He looked down the hallway to Pepper’s room where Tony had disappeared. “He’s just had a hard time lately. His father isn’t the kindest human being and his mom – well, let’s just say she’s tired of playing intermediary between them.”

“Thanks. I just don’t know what that has to do with me,” Steve had said as he stood in front of his door. 

“It doesn’t, not really. But Tony lashes out, like that-.”

“It’s very immature.”

“He’s only 23.” Rhodes’ voice took on a defensive tone and Steve knew enough to back away – or did he?

“Well, so am I- but you don’t see me treating people the way he treated me,” Steve had snapped back and then bowed his head as he gripped the door knob. “I’m sorry. I get it. I think. But I think it would be best if I leave. I can go back to the local barracks, and catch a military transport back on Friday. Thanks for everything.”

“At least write him. Tell him you’re leaving-.” Rhodes said. “He’ll come around – he’s like that when you put him up against the wall.”

Steve hadn’t said – he shouldn’t have to put anyone up against the wall. Well, he hadn’t left and somehow, he felt like he should have because in the end -. 

He shook his head and glanced at Bucky. But his friend persisted. “You’re not telling me something. Come on, out with it.” They entered the barracks and Steve stowed his Christmas presents in his footlocker. 

“Doesn’t matter.”

Bucky threw himself onto his cot and glared at him. “You know, I stayed here – alone during the holiday. You could feel sorry for me.”

“I always feel sorry for you because you are such a jerk.” Steve checked out his clean clothes. He needed to get ready for meeting in the command center. “Besides it doesn’t matter anyhow.”

“Tell me,” Bucky said and Steve swore if the man could pound on a mattress and have a toddler tantrum he would.

Steve raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “Okay, how’s this – he kept asking me about Peggy. Peggy this, and Peggy that. He has this whole mindset that I have to be hetero.”

“Well, have you told him?” Bucky asked and propped up his chin on his hand. 

“No,” Steve replied. Before Bucky could flail around about that, Steve halted him. “I wanted to, I really wanted to – more than once. But it felt wrong. Like – Rhodes said – he’s young and impressionable.”

“You said he was 23.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re 23,” Bucky responded with an aggravated sigh.

“Yeah,” Steve said as he changed out of his sweaty olive drab t-shirt. He put on a fresh one – no time for a shower – and then pulled on his jacket. “And I know that. But he’s not for me. He’s this intelligent, wealthy, amazing person. I’m an enlisted recruit still working to get my field promotion. I don’t have anything to offer.”

“Good lord, you’re not getting married, Steve,” Bucky said and sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of his cot. “If you’re interested, you should try it out. I mean really.”

“Really,” Steve said and then settled on his cot. Taking out his paper and pen, he pulled out his clipboard to write a thank you letter. “Go away.”

Bucky stood, clearly irritated by Steve. “You know, you always have so much to prove. I can make it on my own, Buck, I can do it all myself. Now, you’re running away from someone who obviously cares you about because you have to prove you can make it on your own and not have anything easy.” He knocked Steve’s head a few times as Steve tried to bat him away. “Trying to see if it’s completely empty in there or not. Get yourself on the right page.”

He left the barracks and, for a minute, Steve took his words to heart. Maybe he should say something to Tony – confess that he was interested, something. He sat there staring at the blank page and he felt his forehead crease and his frown tighten. He couldn’t do it; some things he was brave about – this wasn’t one of them. He scribbled his thank you letter and felt like a heel because of it. He had no honor, no self-respect, and no gumption.

He threw the letter in the post and went to the command center for the meeting. It was mid-afternoon and the gathering around the table ended up being small. Steve knew it was important because Colonel Phillips headed up the meeting. Phillips, Peggy, Sam, Rumlow (of all people) and himself. When Steve spotted Rumlow in the corner of the Sit-rep Room, he clamped his mouth shut. They might not get along and their personalities might clash but they were soldiers together and they had to find a way to successfully get the mission completed. If anything, in the end Steve trusted Rumlow to follow his oath and his vow to defend the Constitution. Regardless of Rumlow’s taunts, Steve trusted the man to do his duty.

Colonel Phillips didn’t have any time to waste and pushed the meeting right into the details. He had a laptop open and they all sat around a small table focused on his briefing. A map of the region was shown with markings to indicate friendlies and hostiles.

“We have a situation that we need to get cleaned up and cleaned up now. That bridge is nearly to the stage where we will be able to start using it. While it isn’t complete, the first stage is – so we can transport major materials to the village and the compound. But the problem is.” He pointed with a pen at the screen. “It looks like we have some Taliban and their warlords moving closer. We think they are trying to move in, trying to blow it up with a suicide bomber. Vehicular or person – we don’t know.”

“That’s nothing new,” Rumlow said. “What’s the difference now?”

Steve wanted to be angry with Rumlow, but the man had a point. “Sir, with all due respect, I think that’s a valid question.”

Colonel Phillips eyed Rumlow and then with his normal sour expression detailed the intel. It was convoluted and didn’t make sense. He could even tell from Sam’s body language that no one was buying the goods that the Colonel was selling. 

He kept at it though for near to an hour. As he completed his briefing, he ordered, “Next week, we’ll have a small convoy out to the southern tributaries, near the foothills.” He pointed to the map. “I want that convoy to go there and set up camp, looking for any hostiles.”

“That’s out in the middle of nowhere,” Sam commented.

“Exactly.”

“You’re using the convoy as bait,” Steve said and seethed. He wouldn’t have any of his soldiers put in harm’s way for an operation like this at all.

“Yes,” Colonel Phillips. “And I expect you to pick out who is going with you and who is staying home.” He studied each one of them and then commanded, “Dismissed.”

As everyone moved to leave, Steve loitered and he recognized that look on his commander’s face. Once the door to the Sit-Rep room closed, Steve said, “Permission to speak openly, sir.”

Phillips cocked a brow at him and said, “Go ahead, Rogers. I know you’re going to do it anyhow.”

“Sir, we don’t have enough intel on this situation and what we have is thin. We shouldn’t be moving out and using our men and women as bait for local warlords.” Steve waited and expected a dressing down, but instead Phillips agreed.

“That’s right. We shouldn’t. The convoy is our decoy. Sometimes it isn’t about the local geography.”

That sounded ominous. “Why we are doing this – this isn’t going to protect the bridge. All it is going to do is put our people in danger,” Steve said. “And can I ask why was Rumlow here? Protecting the bridge and this village isn’t his mission or the Strike team’s.”

“No, it isn’t. But he’s coming with you.”

“Why?”

“If you’re going to make this field promotion to Captain, you have to learn to recognize threats from the inside and the outside,” Phillips said and then let the words weigh on him as if the air suddenly became heavier, thicker. 

The pieces fell into place. They were bait but not in the normal sense of the word and not in the routine military gamble. This was an operation to rat out the snakes from within because Phillips assumed that someone was going to make a move – sell out the bridge protection (the convoy) and then blame it on locals. Whoever it was. Phillips could smoke them out. 

“What if they don’t make a move?” Steve asked. 

“Oh, they will,” Phillips returned. “I’ll have backup ready, but a distance away so they don’t suspect.”

He wouldn’t explain the rest but the whole conversation put Steve on edge. “Anyone in particular other than the Strike team that you would like on the mission, sir?”

“I trust your judgment, Rogers.”

Steve nodded and picked up his notebook with his phone. He left the Sit-Rep room a little more rattled than he expected. He went to the command center room with the computers, realizing that trying to call Tony might be a fantasy. He spotted that the computer used for unofficial communications was open and decided to give it a try. He logged in and got onto skype. Every other time he did this, Tony was never available, but hope springs eternal as they say. 

He waited as it tried to connect and just as he wanted to give in, the connection went through and a very sleepy Tony blinked at him. He looked like he was in bed with the computer sitting on his extra pillow. “What? This better not be you, Dad, because I don’t need crap today.”

“Tony?” 

He didn’t even look like he opened his eyes all the way to see who it was. “Steve?”

“Yeah, I just needed someone to talk to. I’m – I guess – I-.” He stopped and he knew he should just close down the connection. “Forget it, go back to sleep.”

Even before he finished his sentence, Tony wrestled with his blankets and sat up. “No, no, I’m awake. What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just – I needed some sanity. Something – something normal?” Steve said and peered over his shoulder. He could pull a privacy screen over but decided against it.

“Well, that’s something else. Pepper will be pleased that I finally fall into the category of normal,” Tony smiled and yawned.

“You’re tired, I shouldn’t have called so early,” Steve said as he figured it must be around seven in the morning. 

“Tired, yeah, but thrilled you are not Howard. He found out that I am going to publish and he’s livid.” Tony leaned against the hood of the corvette he modeled into his headboard.

“What? Isn’t publishing a good thing?” Steve asked and was so thankful he had something else to think about and worry about. Sure he could have called his mom, but she would have hounded him about his demeanor and then would have worried so much. It wouldn’t have been good for her health and recovery.

“Yeah, it is, but I’m publishing something that will prove some of my theories. Of course not everything. I applied for patents, just provisional right now. But I think I’ll get them,” Tony said as he sighed. “It’s finally coming around. After I got back from Germany, I just felt so invigorated. Really, I want to thank you. It was great to just talk to you and work out some of those kinks.”

Steve leaned back in the creaking chair and said, “I really didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, yeah, you did. You listened. You asked questions. It was great. So great,” Tony said. He looked away for a moment. It wasn’t as if he was distracted or talking to someone else but gathering his courage. When he looked back to the camera he said, “So, I wrote you a letter. You’ll probably get it in a few days. If you, if you don’t like it, just throw it away and forget it, okay?”

“Tony, why would I do that?” Steve said. “Listen, remember when you said about being friends, best friends. Well, I kind of feel the same. I have a lot of friends here, best friends. Friends I consider, as you call it, my band of brothers and sisters. But you, you’re my anchor, my sanity in this crazy world. I need that right now.”

Tony leaned into his computer and asked, “Steve, what’s wrong?”

“Something is coming down the pike, Tony. I can’t say what. I have another mission to go on. I don’t know how long it will take. I just wanted you to know, I wanted you to know. Well, you’re a great person and one of my favorites, okay?” Steve said as he tried to ignore the shaking of his hands. 

“Steve?” Tony said and there was a rasp to his voice. “You’ll be okay. You told me about your team. Sam and Bucky and Gabe and Peggy. All of them. They’re there for you. You got a great team.”

Steve inhaled, held it, and then exhaled. “Yeah, yeah I do. You’re right, of course.”

“See, whatever is coming I know you can do it.” Tony winked at him. “Besides, this isn’t going to get you out of sending me some fascinating Christmas gift.”

Steve laughed, it released some of the tension and he said back, “Well, remember you are constrained by our 25 dollar limit, too.”

“That is not fair at all.” 

The ball of barbed wire that seemed to have taken up residence in his chest eased a little as he spoke to Tony. This was how it was all during the weekend they’d had together. So easy and light – well except for those first hours of that first day. After those, everything went so smoothly. When they sat in Tony’s hotel room, close on the bed to watch a movie on his tablet, Steve could feel Tony’s heat. Tony could have put on any movie at all – anything and Steve would have happily watched it. Being with Tony, feeling this sense of right, this sense of home, it soothed him and he admitted it felt almost perfect. He’d almost confessed right then and there. They were half way through Star Trek Beyond, and Steve had said, “Tony.” His voice surprised himself – so low and whispered – almost reverent in the tone. 

Tony gazed at him, forgetting the movie. They were touching, sitting on the bed with the pillows piled around them – they’d even pulled a few of the cushions from the sofa to sculpt a perfect viewing area. Steve had been sitting against the pillows, with Tony almost on top of him, almost leaning back into him. When he looked at Steve, he had to peer over his shoulder.

“Yeah?” His eyes were sleepy, almost. The pupils were wide but Steve figured it might be from the dim lighting in the room. His cheeks were flush and his lips slightly parted, welcoming.

“I just – I wanted to tell you-.” But then he couldn’t say it. Because in the end it wasn’t a dream he could have. Sure, he could be out in the military – but Tony didn’t need a military boyfriend to muck up everything. He had enough problems with his father – how would it be to have a boyfriend that came from the wrong side of the tracks, that went to the military, that studied art in college?

“Nothing, I just-.” He had swallowed down his yearnings, and said, “Do you want some more popcorn?”

That was it – he didn’t look and see if Tony had been disappointed with his question, he jumped off the bed and upset the tablet. Now as he remembered it, Steve realized how very stupid he was – he needed to confess to Tony – to tell him.

“I am going to figure out something spectacular, you know,” Tony was saying as Steve recalled that night only a week ago.

“I’m sure you will,” Steve replied coming back to himself. “Well, I should probably hop off now. I have to do some work and I am not officially off duty.”

“Steve, remember you got a good team, right I know you do, you’ve told me. You can trust them.” 

No point in denying the truth. “Yeah, I do. I really do. I can trust them.” He thought of the Strike team and what Phillips said. “I’ll be okay. It’s just going to be nice to have a holiday with all of this behind me.”

“I know you can’t get leave again – but maybe, maybe we could talk that day? I’m not doing anything.”

“Sure, we can plan on it. I’ll get on the schedule for you and my mom,” Steve said and he ached a little inside because he wanted to go back to that moment in Germany. He wanted to say something to Tony. But now, this way, just didn’t seem right. It was always difficult to get time to skype on the holiday, but if he put in for it now, he would definitely be scheduled at a decent hour. “Anyhow, thanks for talking to me.”

“Oh, before you go – that letter?”

“Yeah?” Steve asked and he didn’t know why he felt more hopeful, more fulfilled when the idea that Tony thought of him, spoke to him in this secret way – through letters. It made him feel as if the intangibility of space and time could be bridged with a simple letter. 

“Well, don’t take it too seriously, okay? You don’t have to get worried about it or anything.” Tony cupped a hand over his mouth before he said, “Okay?”

“Tony if you want to say something -.”

“No, no, just don’t get worked up about it. It’s just a letter.” He waved at the camera. “Please?”

“Sure, Tony. Don’t worry so much.” Steve grinned at him, trying to make it as winning as possible. “You’d be surprised at how much I won’t mind whatever you have to say.” Of course, if he told Steve he found someone and planned to marry it would drive a dagger into his heart, but he’d have to find a way to live with it. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Tony said and nodded several times.

The connection fried out then and Steve sat there looking at the blank screen and hoping that Tony understood it would be fine. He went to the computer for the sign up for the holiday schedule. He managed to get two decent times. Although they were not consecutive, that was fine. Most of the day he would be on light duty. He settled down and wrote out the rest of the day’s duties. Keeping everyone off heavy duty if he could manage it. Then he went to the task of figuring out who would come on the convoy. 

The Colonel had sent him information that hadn’t been shared in the briefing. Specifics about what the objective was, how many transports, what how many soldiers he wanted to participate in the operation. Steve spent the better part of the rest of the afternoon until his duty shift to walk the perimeter and check on the site points. With rifle, pack, and gear on including his helmet, Steve went about his security review. 

Talking to each of his men and women helped to center him. Phillips wanted to keep the convoy small. In fact, it wasn’t even a convoy – more like two Humvees. The camp would be under the mission of surveying the area of new roads. That meant he needed Gabe – he had the knowledge to do the work to make it look as if they were surveying. One of the Humvees would be the Strike team. That was certain. That meant that Steve needed his best in his Humvee. Gabe was one, Bucky was a great shot, but Sam was cool headed. It might be good to have Peggy along. He’d have to find out if she could be released from her British diplomatic duties. 

It took time to assemble everything they would need and then he locked the document, checked the certificates for security, and then sent it to the Colonel for final review. Once he received approvals, then he would talk to each of his team to tell them what he could about the mission. He didn’t like keeping vital information from any of them, but it might be required. 

Over the course of the next week, Steve spent time writing out his thank you card for Tony (he really didn’t like the one he’d already sent), putting together his team, and spending long tiring days walking the perimeter. Sometimes he walked alone, other times he walked with one of this unit. They would leave at first light tomorrow for this strange mission, and he wanted to do his circuit one more time. His nerves itched about the mission. He’d called his mother and talked to her, only telling her bits and pieces of what was going on. Luckily Bucky’s parents were with her, though he was sure they were as worried about their son as she was about him. They could console each other. He’d also talked to Tony, but that only brought more of the memories and hopes back to the forefront of his mind. 

Germany had nearly been a bust, but walking through the ruins of the castle, spying the excited look on Tony’s face every time Steve asked another probing question of the tour guide, it brought such hope to him that he wanted to hold Tony’s hand, touch him, embrace him. But he hadn’t – except for the one time on Philosopher’s Way as they climbed up the steep slope to the path of scholars and poets, Tony stumbled. From behind, Steve had been able to rush up the craggy ground and catch Tony before he tumbled down the hillside. Steve had very nearly caught him bridal style. For a moment their faces were inches apart, lips close, heat and longing potent. But then Steve remembered himself and he’d gotten Tony on his feet, made his apologizes, and hiked along the path without another word of it.

What if he’d said something then? What if he’d acted? Instead of stepping away, what if he’d pulled Tony to him, really embraced him, kissed him. Even now as he looked over the Tarnak river in the distance, his heart raced and his fingers tingled with the need to hold and to caress. 

“You seem a little distracted.”

Steve peered around to find Sam standing next to him on the ridge. “Just getting ready for tomorrow. We’re going to have to be at the top of our game.”

“We’re expecting an ambush?” Sam asked.

“Maybe, but maybe not,” Steve answered, because what he expected would be something more insidious than an ambush. Something that would upset their whole operation to build the bridge – something that would end up putting the bridge in someone else’s hands. 

“Still, it’ll be nice to get away,” Sam commented. “It was nice to get away for Thanksgiving.”

“Yeah, that’s right – you were able to get away, too. How’d it go?”

Sam shrugged. “You know how family is.” Laughing, Steve agreed, but then Sam asked, “So something happened in Germany, didn’t it? Something that changed things for you?”

“A little – not much,” Steve said. “Can I tell you something, Sam?”

“Sure.” He knew he could say anything to Sam and not worry about it being spread wide. But broaching it like this meant something more – something between them.

“When I came out to the unit, to everyone, even my mom, I still wasn’t sure. Not really. I thought maybe, maybe I was wrong. Maybe all the talk and the discourse in the media and everything had me questioning me. I mean I always liked girls, but not quite in that way,” Steve said. “I really like Peggy. I could make her happy.”

“But not you,” Sam said as Steve fell silent.

Steve nodded and wondered at the wetness in his eyes. “I just – Germany made me see that I’m right about it. That I want that and not something else.”

“It’s a good thing, Steve. Do you think you could have it with Tony?” Sam asked. His sincerity and respect eased Steve’s anxiety and nervousness.

“Maybe, I don’t know. After this mission, well after this – I’m going to talk to him. Tell him how I feel.”

Sam patted him on the back. “Hey you never know, you can do it.”

“Yeah, yeah I can.” 

After they finished the security route, Steve settled in to prep for the mission. He went through a final briefing with his team that included the Strike team. The Colonel sat in on all the meetings and his hard edge showed through even as they checked off the last of their requirements to go. The official mission focused on setting up outposts. The unofficial mission was protecting against the possibility of a warlord or a Taliban sympathizer looking to cause damage and harm – and the real mission underneath it all that only the Colonel and Steve knew about was setting the trap to find out if the Strike team might be leaning toward the enemy. He couldn’t believe it. Even though Rumlow could be an ass, he was loyal. Steve trusted him more than once on missions. At last he zipped up the rest of supplies and loaded them. Once he was done he headed over to the command center since he’d signed up for a bit of time on the computer. It wouldn’t be optimal time to talk to Tony via skype, but that was okay. He needed to reach out to his mom anyway.

So he did and he felt better as he went to bed that night, knowing she seemed less anxious and he told her that he would be out of contact for a few days. No issues just doing a perimeter sweep, he’d told her. He’d have the base comm enlisted keep his mom up to date. He would have to remember to give them the okay to tell Tony how things were progressing. He slept deeply that night – more deeply and soundly than he estimated he would and when the morning sun rose he missed it. 

Bucky shook him awake and Steve missed the one and only shower he’d get for the next week or so. He grimaced but figured it wouldn’t much matter – they would all stink by the time they rode back into the compound. The last of the supplies – the food – was loaded up and Colonel Phillips called him over for a consult. It wasn’t more than a quick good luck and an eye at the Strike team. Steve understood the unspoken warning. He needed to catch them, and he needed to make sure his unit stayed safe. He only hoped to hell that the Colonel was wrong.

With Gabe, Bucky, Sam, and Peggy all in tow, they climbed into the Humvee, readying to go. Right before they started away, Dum Dum ran over to the vehicle. He offered Steve that half smirk and said, “Thought you might like some light reading on the way.” He shoved his arm through the window and gave a batch of mail to Steve – who sat in the front passenger seat (Gabe was driving). 

“Thanks,” Steve said and flipped through the envelopes. He handed out letters to everyone, tucking Gabe’s from his mom into the glove compartment. 

Steve had two letters – one from his mother and one from Tony. Just as Gabe maneuvered the Humvee onto the road, Steve realized he’d never gone to the command center to make sure that Tony would be updated on his status. He would have to find a way to ask them to do it or just hope this whole mission didn’t take too long. He felt like kicking himself – but there was nothing to be done about it now. 

They pulled out, driving to the southern border, moving along the Tarnak tributary and further along until the passes became less like roads and more like matted paths. The rock and roll of the vehicle kept them pretty much quiet because of the loud engine and the constant keeping an eye out for any possible hostiles. Steve stayed on the comms. 

It took them more than half of the day to get to the camp point. A crossroads. If anyone could call it that at all. This was the place where traffic – both drugs and weapons – shuttled from the warlords to the Taliban and to the outside world. Setting up shop here was extremely dangerous. They were asking for trouble. His team studied him but didn’t ask any questions for which he was grateful. They knew there was a plan. He only nodded to them as they understood his orders. 

An outcropping from the craggy side of a rocky hill that bordered the distant mountain range would serve as their backdrop. It would also help to shield them from anyone flanking them but it could corner them. He doubted it. All of his teammates were agile enough to get up the rugged hillside. It would be a difficult thing to do in the middle of a fire fight, but they would need to consider how to do it and what to sacrifice. Steve wasn’t willing to sacrifice anyone. 

It took them the rest of the day to set up the tents, pitch the security sensors, as well as have Bucky and Sam scout out some sniper nests. Bucky found one he particularly liked and he knew he would be spending the better part of his time alone in that nest so he made it as comfortable as possible. 

Once they finally finished, Steve assigned watches, always pairing up one of his unit with the Strike team. Rumlow didn’t like it, but Steve couldn’t give a hoot about that at all. Steve would take a middle of the night watch, and he put Rumlow with Peggy – because he knew she would whip his ass if he needed it.

Now they just had to wait it out. Sitting by the campfire because the nights were decidedly cold in December, Steve pulled out his letter from Tony.

 _Dear Steve_  
Yeah, I’m using the dear Steve – so sue me. I think it is required for this letter. It is not a dear john letter so don’t worry about that – actually it is about as far from a dear john letter as you can get.

Not sure how to go about doing this and I probably should have found some courage to do it while we were still in Germany. Do you know the last few days in Germany – after you left – I couldn’t even get out of my room? Most of the time I just stared at the ceiling while on the bed, thinking about you. I mean I was terrified. I kept thinking about the danger you’re in and how – God, how I could lose you at any minute and I didn’t have the balls to say what I really needed to say. What I absolutely want to say to you. 

I can be a real dick, you know?

Before I tell you, before you know how screwed up I really am, I wanted to tell you that being with you – having Thanksgiving dinner with you – that – wow I can’t even write it. It just means so much to me. I haven’t had a Thanksgiving dinner like that in years. Most of the time, I spend it by myself. I usually tell Pepper or Rhodey that I have plans, that there’s a professor or someone who invited me over to have dinner with them. But truthfully, I’m alone more times than not. Dinner with you – listening to you talk about your mother, talk about your friends, talk about anything, was beyond my dreams. And then you listened to me. You were there for me. Damn, when was the last time someone really asked me about my mom and how I feel about her relationship with my dad. I can’t really remember.

You did. You asked. You listened.

Steve – it isn’t just that you were listening, it isn’t just that we were having a good time playing games or watching movies. It was something else. I mean I fell asleep binge watching Game of Thrones with you. You didn’t freak out. You let me sleep on top of you for hours. When I woke up – I had this feeling of complete and utter security, safety, home. 

Home.

I haven’t felt that in years. Years, Steve!

So I want to tell you, I want to ask you – are you? Are you interested? I know you’re probably not even gay, I know that this is really going out on a very thin branch, but I need to know. You were so comfortable and so happy to be with me. It felt that way. When I tripped on the Philosopher’s Way and you caught me, I swear you wanted to kiss me. I wanted it too, I really did. Are you interested in me? I need to know, Steve, I do.

Because.

Because, I think – I think I might be falling in love with you.

With love,  
_Tony_

With trembling hands, Steve held the letter. He tried to fold it up but he had to try several times. Blinking away the wetness, he scanned the camp. Everything was as it should be, except the world tipped over and all the pieces fell into a jumble. But the best of it was, that Tony’s piece fell with him. He held the paper and slowly put it in his Velcro pocket next to his heart. He had to clear his throat, as if something clogged it and he couldn’t take a breath. Things felt new and strange and the scenery around him pulsated with it. 

As he watched his unit members at their work, he appreciated their busyness. He didn’t think he could speak at all, much less converse. The idea that formed, the hope that blasted through him since Germany, welled up and hit him hard now. He only wished he could call Tony, tell Tony that he got the letter, read it and wanted to confirm everything in it. Every damned thing. But here Steve was out in the middle of nowhere, stuck here for who knew how long. 

He got up and paced around the small camp. He needed to move and to get away from everyone, but that was impossible. He had his duty to consider. When he went to the outcropping near the ridge, he climbed up it to get a better glimpse of the surrounding area. The daylight disappeared beyond and he could see far off lights burning – villages scattered throughout, nomadic tribes and clans. Americans thought the world so foreign and different. It wasn’t true. America had its nomads, and different clans, different encampments – Americans just called it different words. In the end, the world was so very small – yet as he stood there with his hands in fists, he realized how very big it felt.

He heard the crush of the stones before he saw it. Turning, he found Peggy standing next to him. She didn’t need to say a word, and she remained silent by his side. How she knew – what she knew – he couldn’t say. But she stood there as a sentinel support for him. He nodded to her and she only smiled in the dying light of day. 

When they returned to the camp proper, Steve noted that the Strike team huddled around a fire, speaking in low tones. He had an inkling it wouldn’t be long – whatever was going to happen would occur sooner rather than later. He’d welcome it. He wanted to get back to the village, to the command center. As they passed the Strike team’s fire, Rumlow glanced up.

“Be ready for anything, Rogers.”

Steve considered him. “Always am.”

“Bet you are.”

Moving past the fires to the central point of their camp, Steve shared a wary look with Peggy. No, it wouldn’t be long now at all.

CHAPTER 9  
Stupidity just might be Tony’s middle name. It had to be. Yes, that was right. Anthony Stupidity Stark. Perfectly right. Couldn’t be anything else, could it? Or maybe Stupid should be his nickname. Absolutely should be his nickname. What was his middle name – anyhow – other than Stupidity. Sure the school records had it as Edward, but everyone and their alien brother knew it was Stupidity.

“Tony, what are you beating yourself up about now?” Pepper asked as she entered his laboratory space. 

Tony didn’t bother getting up. Lying on the floor, he stared up at the maze of pipes and stained tiles again. T’Challa visited him throughout the day, checking up on him as he stayed unmoving on the floor for hours. Surprisingly, his fellow graduate student never left to seek shelter from Tony’s insanity and stupidity elsewhere. 

“Miss Potts, I am very glad to see you come to the aid of Tony. He has been somewhat catatonic all day today and I fear for his safety, if not his mind,” T’Challa said and Tony frowned. The man sometimes acted a little too serious for his own good.

Tony arched his neck so he could see both Pepper and T’Challa. Upside down and talking like he wasn’t in the room – his conspiratorial radar alarmed but he ignored it. “I’m fine.” He wasn’t but not everyone needed to know how stupid he could be. “Just trying to figure out some things.”

“How long has he been on the floor?” Pepper asked. She grimaced at him and it looked odd. Of course she would discount his claims.

“The whole time I have been here, over five hours. I feel as if he might need a doctor’s help or maybe-.” T’Challa studied him.

“I don’t need a doctor’s help,” Tony said and rolled onto his stomach. His shoulders ached and his back screamed in protest. He managed to crawl to his hands and knees and then popped up on his feet. The lab wobbled around him, but he figured that was due to the low blood sugar. “I need skittles.” On his bare feet, Tony padded across the lab to his station. He checked on his experiment – still bubbling and brewing. It would be another fifteen or so hours, so he might as well take some time and go blow off some steam.

All the while, Pepper eyed him and followed him around the lab. “Maybe we can go and get something to eat? It’s seven – might be nice.”

He considered her as T’Challa waited in the background. He swore the other man needed extra to do. He stood silently in lab most of the time. Sure, he did his work, but his astute eyes and expression seemed beyond his years. The only thing that really drilled down that he was around Tony’s age happened to be the fact that he liked to wear cat shirts and hoodies. It was downright weird. 

He could sit here and moan about posting that letter to Steve or he could go and get a greasy, cheesy burger and a huge side order of fries from the local diner. He sent a letter to Steve shortly after returning to the States from Germany. “Okay,” he said and Pepper made a little exclamation of surprise. “What? This isn’t the first time I said okay.”

“First time for dinner in ages,” Pepper said as she searched around and found his shoes. “Flip flops, Tony? It’s December.”

Snatching them away from her, he remarked, “I had dinner with you on Thanksgiving, and in Australia it’s nearly summer.”

“Funny thing is we’re not in Australia, and during Thanksgiving dinner, you completely ignored me,” she said and winked at T’Challa. “He was mooning all over his soon to be boyfriend, possibly even fiancé.” 

“I was not,” Tony said as he slipped on his shoes and pulled on his backpack. For a second, he thought about Steve. What would be in his pack? Ready to eat meals, bullets, binoculars, first aid kit – what else? How would it feel to have to carry everything to survive – not survive digitally but in the real world – on your back? He couldn’t fathom it. “Let’s go.” He trudged out the door, not waiting for her, knowing she would catch up, which she did. 

She jogged up to him as he marched up the corridor. “Tony, what is going on? You’ve been all wrong since Thanksgiving. Actually you were wrong once Steve left. Did he say something, do something? Did he hurt you?”

Tony turned over those words in his head, chewed on them, and digested their meaning. He halted, coming to an abrupt stop and Pepper took a few steps ahead before she realized. She came back to him, a look of confusion laced with concern on her face. “What is going on? Really? Did he hurt you?”

“I’m thinking. I’m actually thinking it over, Pepper. Did he hurt me? Does it count as hurting me that now – now I have to carry this weight around on my shoulders? This weight that is as heavy as a fucking elephant, that’s pushing me down into the ground, that makes it hard – so hard to think that I’m fuzzy around the edges,” he said and then pressed fingers into his eyes. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Pepper clasped his wrists and slowly brought his hands down. “What is going on, Tony? What did he do?”

“He left and I’m-.” Tony swallowed hard and looked over and away from her. Confession bared the holes in his soul, tatters and rips. Something he wasn’t sure he could put on display to even Pepper. “He left and I don’t know. I can’t handle it.”

“Because of the way you feel?”

And her words felt condescending and he knew she wasn’t trying for that, but he tore himself away from her and hurried down the corridor all the while, rambling on and on about it. “Of course, the way I feel. It has to be about some deep and abiding love, right? For me to care about a guy in the military, who might fucking sacrifice his life for some noble, obsolete cause. Shit, Pepper, what do you think?”

He didn’t wait for her but she scrambled to get to his side. She kept up with him then, her ponytail bobbing back and forth, her purse strap clenched in her fist. “Tony, you’re confusing me. Are you saying you love him or are you saying you’re concerned about the danger? Which is it?”

He wanted to scream and rage and growl all at the same time. Instead, he just wagged his head and shoved the door open to burst out into the frigid Boston night in early December. Flip flops might not have been the right choice. Only a slight snow dusted the ground; he supposed he could handle it – for now. 

Pepper grasped his arm as he started toward the apartment. “Tony, let’s get something to eat. Talk about it.”

He faced her, the cold biting his cheeks, causing his eyes to water. “What’s there to talk about, Pepper? I screwed up.” He glanced up at the sky, but the city lights and the clouds obscured the stars. Looking back at her, he shook his head. “I screwed up royally. I should have said something to him – you know. But I figured he wasn’t – he didn’t want anything like that with me. He never- but he did. Crap, he did.”

“Tony, you’re not making much sense – and it’s cold. Let’s go to the diner. Get some hot chocolate and one of your favorite disgusting burgers. Come on.”

He saw her calculating whether or not she should call in the big guns. Possibly call Rhodey. He nodded, if only to spare Rhodey another frantic call from one of his friends worried about him. It wasn’t like he was a basket case – except for when he was. How pathetic was he?

When they entered the diner, Tony kept his head down like he was some kind of criminal. Pepper only unbuttoned her pea coat and carted him to a booth in the back of the restaurant. By the time Tony struggled out of his backpack and settled against the ripped pleather cushion of the booth’s bench, the waiter sidled up to the table. He looked a little older and more used than Tony – though at least he had actual shoes on and not flip flops. His hair was a mass of dark curls and his glasses kept sleeping down his face.

“Yeah?”

Tony glanced at Pepper. “Yeah, are you here for our order-.” He read the nametag pinned upside down on the guy’s black apron. “Bruce?”

“Yeah, you want to order something?”

Pepper muttered under her breath as she pulled out the laminate covered menus from behind the condiments on the table. “You want the usual, right?”

“How about Bruce, do you know what my usual would be?” Tony frowned at the disheveled waiter.

Using only his index finger, Bruce pushed up his glasses and then sniffled. “Why would I know that? Because you’re famous or you’re an idiot?”

“I’m not exactly sure how being an idiot would make it easier to know the usual?” Tony said and something skipped like a red light over the guy’s eyes. 

“Are you gonna order?” Bruce said. “I have a lot to do here.”

Tony peered over his shoulder at the nearly empty diner. It was a bit early for the college crowd just yet. “Hmm, yeah that’s good.” 

“Tony, don’t be so antagonistic. He’ll have a number three with extra cheese and fries. I’ll have the wrap and some fries, too. Bring us two big mugs of hot chocolate. Don’t be cheap with the whipped cream.”

Bruce grumbled but nodded and scribbled down their order. Tony was sure he’d end up with a veggie burger. He watched the guy go back to the kitchen. “What is wrong with that guy?”

“What is wrong with you?” Pepper said. “Come on, Tony.”

He cradled his head in his hands and just allowed the full impact of his emotions to hit him. It felt freeing somehow, to submit to it. “He’s in a war zone; he doesn’t know how I feel. And I was stupid and didn’t tell him.”

Pepper clasped his wrist but didn’t tug his hand away. “Listen to me, Tony. You have to believe he’s going to be okay.”

“No, I don’t.” He released his head and let his gaze bounce around the dingy diner, never resting – and not meeting hers. “I don’t. I was stupid and I don’t. And you know what I did? Do you have any idea what I did?”

“What’s that?”

He finally looked at her, into those piercing blue eyes that analyzed every molecule of his soul (if he even had one). “I sent him a letter about it.”

Softly she patted his hand on the table. “But that’s a good thing.”

“Is it? I talked to him – you know – almost right after – well not right after but after. And I told him I sent him this letter.”

“What did he say?” 

He stared at their hands, holding tight across the table. “Not anything. I didn’t explain what was in the letter. The thing is – the thing is – he seemed off. Like he was worried or something about a mission. He seemed agitated and worried. He wouldn’t tell me about what.” He shook his head but didn’t meet her eyes. “Not sure he could tell me. But he seemed-.” Tony looked up then and said, “Like he was reaching out for comfort, for something. God, for goodbye.”

“Tony, you are getting yourself worked up and half crazy about this.” She started to say more but then the meal came and Bruce threw it on the table like the burger and wrap offended him. Tony kept his mouth shut and Pepper tried to be nice and say thank you, but that didn’t work well at all. The waiter only grumbled.

“I am half crazy about it because what if something happens? Or better yet, what if he gets my letter, hates me and tells me to go fuck myself,” Tony said. “I don’t know. I’m all wrapped up tight inside and worried.”

“Eat your burger. You’ll feel better when your guts are slathered in grease.” 

He grunted but did as told. He managed to eat the entire burger and some of the fries, thanks to Pepper’s intervention. She talked a lot – about her classes, about her friends, about how she and Rhodey will not be a couple even though Tony kept pushing it. 

“I’m not really into a long distance romance, right now. Anyhow all he can do is talk about someone named Carol – Carol this and Carol that,” Pepper said. “I think he’s in love or at least lust. She’s in the Air Force, too. I think better suited than me.”

“Maybe that’s it. Maybe Steve just doesn’t see us as suited for one another,” Tony muttered.

Hunching down to see his downcast eyes, Pepper said, “Are you serious? That boy was gaga over you.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say something?”

“Because it’s rude to push people together, I should know,” Pepper said and added a glare to the mix.

“Oh, okay, I get it.” He stopped, processed what she stated, and then asked, “You think so? You think he’s interested?”

“I know so,” Pepper said. “All through Thanksgiving dinner he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. Even Rhodey saw it. We snuck out early and I bet you never even knew it. If we hadn’t dragged the both of you out of the room to the pub, I swear you would have hibernated in there – did he even use his room?”

Tony had no answer to that – all he knew was that after Thanksgiving dinner, he and Steve were inseparable. “Yes, and I missed all the signs.”

“Because you were too busy living it. It’s okay, Tony. Don’t be so pessimistic. He’s going to be fine. He’ll get the letter and be happy to see it. If not, send him an email and ask him about it.”

“Okay, okay.” Resolved, Tony decided he would send an email – but he didn’t. He couldn’t think how to phrase it, what to say, how to reference a letter that Steve probably hadn’t even received yet. He thought about just sending the letter through email, but he didn’t. It seemed wrong to do it that way, though he couldn’t figure out why. 

Days later when he hadn’t acted and he felt the fires of the anxiety cool, he received an email from Steve. He read it while sitting on his stool in lab, after finishing his signal to noise ratio calculations.

TO: tstark at MIT.EDU  
FROM: srogers at themail.com

 _Hey Tony_  
I wanted to thank you once again for inviting me to spend the Thanksgiving holiday with you. I am sending a formal thank you letter. I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have spent the time with you, gotten away from the base, and just relaxed for a few days. I am also eternally grateful for the beautiful hotel room, I should pay you back. I’m not sure I can do it all from one paycheck though! I don’t mean to be rude. I just want you to know that hanging out with you, I’d do it if there was no luxury hotel room with spa bathtubs, and all that other stuff I had no idea what the heck it was!

But thank you. It was great to be there with you.

I have to say that hanging with you was out of this world. I mean it was kind of a rocky start, but that’s just because we’re from different worlds, right? Not because we’re different on the inside – wow, that sounds corny. Bucky always says I’m a cornball, but he’s the one who always professes that he’ll ‘be with me ‘til the end of the line’. And Peggy thinks I’m the melodramatic one. But I have to admit, I am a cornball. I hope you don’t mind that at all.

BTW – I haven’t received that letter you spoke about the other day – not yet. I think the mail has been slow for the last week or so. That’s not surprising around the holidays. Should be here in a few days, probably right before I take off for the mission I was talking about. I will be out of contact for a while – I can’t even tell you how long. It’s a mission that doesn’t have a real endpoint. It isn’t a big deal. Just some perimeter sweep up as Colonel Phillips likes to say. No danger at all.

I have some things I want to talk to you about. Probably best done face to face. Maybe when we talk at Christmas time, we can discuss it. Anyhow, I have to go. Planning on a big night tonight. Movie night. Peggy said she had popcorn, the real stuff this time!

Take care, okay! 

Invent something great!

(too many exclamation points, but heck who cares!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

_Steve_

A mission.

Out of contact. 

Jesus Christ, it’s just what Tony feared. A mission. He was going on a mission Tony already knew that – but shit, it really was something – something important. Steve said it was a perimeter sweep, but that had fake written all over it. Tony needed to write back, to find out what kind of mission he was going on. He needed to hack the Department of the Army. He needed to find these things out. How hard could it be to hack the national defense? That kid in War Games did it. Granted it, that was a movie and it was like a million years ago. 

His hands trembled as he hit the keys of his laptop. Just as he started to look on some dubious sites, his phone chimed. 

Rhodey.

He never answered a phone call faster in his life. “Rhodey, sweetcakes, please help me hack into your employer.”

“What?”

“I need to find out what the hell Steve is doing and I can’t do it without hacking into the depart-.”

Rhodey interrupted him. “Stop, stop right there. You are not hacking into anything. You do realize I am calling you from an Air Force base, right? You get that, right?”

“Oh geez, yeah. Okay – code words only.”

He heard a long and pitiful sigh. “No, Tony, no code words. I am not helping you hack anything. What is your problem?”

Tony swallowed back his frustration and then it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, Rhodey might have an avenue to find out what was going on with Steve without succumbing to illegal methods. “Steve, Steve is my problem.”

“Okay?” Rhodey said. “And, oh by the way, hi. I wanted to see if you were going to be around Boston for Christmas or not. I’m flying in from Colorado.”

“I thought you were in Germany?” Tony asked and felt the whole conversation starting to derail so he quickly jumped back onto the track. “Don’t need to know – Steve is my problem. Can you help me?”

“What about Steve?” Rhodey asked and his voice tensed.

“Do you know something? Is he hurt? What happened?”

“No, I know nothing.” Rhodey gave that burdened sigh that Tony had come to both love and hate. It meant that Rhodey cared as well as the fact Tony frustrated the hell out of his friends. “Steve is in a different branch of the service than I am. Plus he’s been in the service for a while, plus he’s deployed. I’m not.”

The walls, the sounds, the lab itself closed around him. “Rhodey, come on you gotta help me out here. Tell me – what can I do to find out-.”

“Is he missing?” Rhodey asked.

“Not that I know of,” Tony replied. “He’s going on a mission. I want to know if he’ll be okay.”

“What? I don’t- Tony you have got to get yourself pulled together. Steve goes on missions all the time,” Rhodey explained. “All the time. That’s what soldiers do. Most of the missions are routine, easy missions. Don’t be so worried about it.”

“But, but what if he sounded nervous, anxious about it?” Tony asked and tapped on the workbench. He needed reassurance. Surely Rhodey got that, understood where Tony was coming from.

“Tony, you have to understand that soldiers in theater, I mean out there deployed, have to continually hit their marks. They have to keep everything in order at all times. Since Steve is up for this new program – the field promotion to Captain which is not normally done for enlisted – well he’s probably pretty stressed. You have to give him a little leeway,” Rhodey said. “Give him some room to breathe. Don’t test him, don’t pester him. He’s got enough on his mind.”

Of course, Rhodey was right. Tony deflated, the stress released like air from a balloon. He sank down and pressed his fingers into his eyes and said, “So probably routine?”

“Nine times out of ten the missions are just security details. Just let him do his job and you do yours.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Rhodey returned. “So you gonna be around Boston at Christmas or you bugging out to New York City?”

Tony welcomed the distraction. “New York. Mom wants to go to the Opera or Nutcracker or some shit before they go to Switzerland or something. I don’t know. So New York. Can you make it to New York?”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Rhodey agreed. The rest of their conversation cycled away from the military and the many possibilities of what was happening with Steve. Tony admitted to himself that he was grateful for Rhodey trying his best to keep his mind off of Steve. In the end though, he swirled right back down to the pit, like the subject of Steve happened to be a black hole.

“So I wrote this letter.”

“Letter?” Rhodey asked and then sighed. “This is about Steve again.”

“Yeah, just hear me out,” Tony said. “I wrote a letter about how I feel. I think I shouldn’t have. I mean, I don’t even know anything- I could have scared him away.”

“No, you won’t. He’s in to you. I swear it.”

Just hearing both Pepper and Rhodey confirm it made Tony feel so much better. He needed to learn how to not let the mind worm of anxiety eat his brain. With that as his mantra, he went to work after his finished up his phone call with Rhodey. Ended up neither Rhodey nor Pepper really hit it off in the romance department. Sure they liked each other well enough, but apparently having a romance with ‘baby Tony’ to take care of felt too much like being a married couple with a too old teenager toddler or some shit. Tony’s offense was epic but he didn’t truly let it go to his heart. Rhodey had his eye on some Carol Danvers or someone and Pepper happened to be content to be single.

Tony should take a lesson from her. It wouldn’t be easy, but he had a lot of friends on campus to keep his days filled, and his nights happy. He knew Steve was busy, getting ready for that mission he was going to go on soon. Tony needed to focus himself, separate himself from the wishful thinking. He also had his little mentee all the way over in Queens, New York to deal with – Peter Parker. While working on his energy project, Tony received yet another call from the high school student. Peter was fun to talk to but a little manic about things sometimes. It reminded Tony of someone – he just couldn’t remember who. 

He took it to heart, or tried to and as the semester started to close, one snowy December evening, while he worked on his paper in his loft apartment, he talked with Peter over skype. 

“Getting a scholarship means I can go to college, not eat, but at least go.”

Tony screwed up his face and set aside the editing for the manuscript. “What do you mean, not eat?”

“Well, most scholarships pay tuition, not books or fees or boarding or anything else. Like I need to eat. I think I can get the books one way or another,” Peter said. His hair looked like he spent most of this time trying to make it stand up or flattened down – depending on which side of his head Tony looked at. 

“Wait, are you telling me you can’t go to college – a good one – because you can’t afford to eat if you go?” 

Peter only shrugged his shoulders. “My aunt can’t really afford it. I mean, she’s good and all. She tries. But we live in an apartment in Queens and well, I found this monitor in the recycle bin and fixed it.”

This was unacceptable. “Nope, you are going to college. Full scholarship including food, board, and all that other stuff.”

“I wish,” Peter said and slumped back in his seat. “Well, I have a year to figure it out, right?”

“Nope, I already did. I’m going to call my mom tonight. She’ll set up a Foundation and we’ll start funding scholarships,” Tony said. “Easy peasy.”

“Oh no, no, Tony you can’t do that –not just for me,” Peter said. He sat up, ram rod straight and shook his hands at the camera. “No, not for me. That’s wrong.”

“Who said it was just for you?” 

“Wh-what?” Peter rubbed at his hair, making the flat section stand up on end from the static electricity. 

Tony tried not to laugh but he giggled all the same. “Yeah, we’ll do a bunch. Don’t worr-.” He noticed the ping. “I got another call. Gotta go. I’ll get in touch about the Maria Stark Foundation. See it’s already on the up and up- has a name and everything.” He was glad to get the interruption. Even far distant from Steve, Tony still harbored that anxiety over the coming mission Steve was going on soon. He switched over to find Steve sitting in bustling room. “Hey!”

“Hey, sorry,” Steve said and looked behind him to the other soldiers. He stepped away from the computer for a moment, pulled over a temporary wall and then sat back down. “Sorry. I forgot. I don’t have much time. Just wanted to check in with you.”

“Did you get my letter?” Tony blurted out and wanted to die.

“No, no letter, yet,” Steve said. “We’re leaving on the mission in a few days. I just wanted to tell you it’s not a big deal or anything so I hope I didn’t get you upset. My mom was all upset. Thought I was going on some suicide mission or something. Like there was no hope. But we leave in a few days. No big deal.”

“No big deal.” What Rhodey said rang in Tony’s head. “So it’s just routine?”

“Perimeter watch, yeah. Means I don’t get to shower for a few days or weeks or whatever. I will be ripe by the time I get back.”

Tony laughed and felt something release inside of him as if all this time since their last call he’d been wound tight. “Phew, that makes me feel better – not that you’re going to stink. I don’t need that. But that you’re just going on a perimeter watch or whatever. Rhodey told me that it would be something routine.” He crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to feel the rapidity of his heart – wasn’t a pacemaker supposed to not allow that to happen? 

“I’m touched. You were worried.”

“Nah, nope, not really. Why, is it showing? Do I have more gray hairs?” Tony said and thought about how concerned Steve looked. “Really, it wasn’t anything. I was just wondering what kind of missions you go on. So I talked to Rhodey. I didn’t really worry at all. I mean you have guns and all that-.” He was not going down that road again. “Not that I think you shoot everyone for fun or anything.” He swallowed down his words. He screwed up – really again. 

Steve looked behind him as if he was listening to something and then turned back to the camera. “Listen, Tony, I gotta go. I kind of snuck on when I wasn’t signed up. But I’ll talk to you when I get back. See you.” Before Tony could explain further, Steve disconnected. 

He insulted Steve again. Steve, being Steve, couldn’t just call Tony out on it – he shut down the conversation once and for all. Tony shook his head. How stupid could he be? Now that letter would arrive and Steve would tear it up. He could try and email, explain his actions. Or just not and hope that it would blow over like the time in Germany. 

What he needed to do was stop obsessing over it. He closed up the laptop and decided to go out. In the end, he spent the rest of the day hanging out at the café. playing on his tablet and generally not getting anything done. He put it out of his mind by doing mindless things. Or things that took up too much of his brain power. Over the next week or so he completely immersed himself in his work since he needed a draft of his manuscript to his mentor by the end of the month. This wasn’t the one he’d already gotten published but a follow up that would blow the lid off the whole renewable energy field. By the time he surfaced, the calendar had ticked down the days to the holiday and the end of the semester, and Tony realized he hadn’t heard from Steve since the disastrous call and the potential for his letter being received. Nothing. Not even an email. Steve had mentioned that he was going on the mission in a few days – that was a week or no, ten days ago – at least. He was probably back from the mission by now, seething because of how Tony treated him, and he tore up the letter, no burned it.

Bad news. It was bad news. The call, on top of the letter. He’d confessed falling in love. He laid out his heart, bared it all. And he heard nothing back from Steve. Not a peep. He kept telling himself it didn’t matter, that they were on perimeter security check and that’s why. 

“Gotta be the bigger man,” Tony said to no one in the lab one day. He started to send emails. And more emails. And nothing. No answer. He waited a day, two days, three days. Nothing. He started to feel again like he should hack into the Army. Over the semester, Steve had some lapses of answering but he always did after a mission. Always. The only thing that was different this time – the letter.

“Shit.” 

Clearly, Tony screwed up, and he screwed up royally. He wanted to be the bigger man, so there was only one way to fix this – and that was to give Steve an out. He walked over to Fury’s office, the cold wind biting. He tried to ignore it as he hunched down low in his thick hooded jacket. At least this time he had his boots on instead of flip flops. Once inside, he loosened up and went to the second floor. He found Natasha and her friend Clint in an office near Fury’s.

“Hey,” he said and managed a hand wave to Clint. 

“Hey, yourself. What’s up?” Natasha asked. Her office – or that’s what Tony assumed it was – happened to be plastered with maps of the world with little red pushpins and black string threaded to connect all of the pins. It reminded Tony of a spider’s web. 

“You remember when you told me we could opt for the pass/fail option in December for the English class?” 

She shoved her chair away from the desk with the computer. The office had to be only 3 meters by 3 meters tops, but every last inch of it was covered with books, computers, and shelves. It wasn’t messy at all – not in the least. Somehow Tony felt like he might have chanced upon the lair of a spy or something. 

“Yeah, I do.”

“Is there still time to do that?” Tony asked. She tilted her head as Clint gestured to her. She answered in sign, not interpreting for Tony. “What’d you tell him?”

“That you’re a dick,” Natasha said. “And a sad pathetic heart sick man that shouldn’t let go of a good thing.”

“You have no idea what’s going on,” Tony said.

She smirked. “Oh, don’t I?”

Anything was possible, but Tony wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. Tear the bandage off quickly as they say – whoever they are. “So can I change it or not?”

“Yes, you can.” Natasha stood up and went to another computer notched into one of the shelves. “Last minutes changes at the end of the semester aren’t usually allowed. You’ll have to go over to the registrar and complete it. But I can put together the paperwork for both of you and send it over. It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. So Steve is okay with this too?”

Tony only nodded but then realized she wasn’t looking at him. “Yeah, he is.” 

“Okay, I’ll get it done. I need you to sign here.” She pointed at the signature pad. “You’re signing for both of you since I don’t have anything from Steve. Usually we ask for verification, you know. But since it is so late in the semester and he’s overseas, we’ll go ahead. He’ll be informed by email that it went through.” 

“Okay, thanks,” Tony said and tasted bile. He signed the pad but felt like he was signing away his life. He finished off his signature and then thanked her with a mutter. He turned to leave but Natasha caught his arm.

“Hey, you know, it’s just a class, right?”

“Yeah, it’s just a class,” Tony said. “I’ll send in my paper tomorrow.” It would mean an all-nighter but he had to put this entire episode of his life to bed. It was time to move on. Steve had. Or was. 

A small voice in the back of his head doubted everything. It kept reminding Tony of the mission. Of the fact that Steve hadn’t sent anything since the mission began. Of the fact that Tony cared, cared about Steve a lot, too much. His commitment phobia reared up then and shredded that small voice until he couldn’t hear it anymore – except in the quiet of the night while he sat on his bed with a pile of letters than he should just burn.

But he didn’t.

CHAPTER 10  
The whine of the air transport woke him up. He tried to roll his head to the side but could barely move it. Bucky was there, like always, always on his side – Bucky was lying down. Someone else happened to be just beyond him but Steve couldn’t quite make out the details. He found he didn’t seem to care, not much anyway. The whole mission had gone downhill, and all he cared about was that his unit, his team, his friends got out alive. They had – but at what cost?

He tried to look at Bucky again and swallowed down his nausea. Someone came down the aisle of the medical transport and bent over him. He didn’t want their pity or their care. The whole thing had been a debacle from the start, and the idea that the Strike team had completely and utterly sold them out still rankled. He’d tried to believe the best of them, but in the end, he’d been the one who was the fool. He shifted and the pain hit him like a wrecking ball. One of the medics placed on hand on his shoulder and told him to quiet down. Why were they so overly concerned about him? It was Bucky that had been injured. Sure, Steve took a few hits, but nothing like Bucky – not like Bucky at all.

“I think,” he murmured and was sure no one heard him. “Think ‘m gonna be sick.” 

Before he knew it, someone moved the entire backboard he was strapped to, tilting it to the side so that he could vomit into a bowl held to his face. After he finished, the medic cleaned him up and laid the backboard down again to secure it for transport. He couldn’t really move his head, his arms, or his legs. Nothing. He tried again to move but the braces made it nearly impossible. That was when Bucky turned to him, his face a mess of bruises, his eyes glittering with pain. 

“Hey punk, stay still. You took a bad hit,” Bucky said. The attempt at levity hurt worse than the pain in his back or in his side. 

“Look who’s talking,” Steve rasped back and they both enjoyed a laugh – because what else could they do? How else were they going to get through this? The smear of blood down Bucky’s left side reminded Steve of the horrible fire fight, the lack of absolute clarity during the night raid – how the warlords came in, how Steve screamed for back-up, how Rumlow flashed a smile before he swung his weapon around and started to shoot his own soldiers. 

“I’ll live,” Bucky said but he closed his eyes against the pain he suffered. 

“Hey, Buck,” Steve whispered and his lips felt dry, cracked as his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He thought it funny because they connected all kind of lines up to him to hydrate him after they’d been found. “Buck.”

Bucky faced him and he failed to hide the pain creeping into his expression. “Yeah.”

“We’re gonna be okay.”

“Sure we are, sure we are,” he agreed. “At least Peggy and Sam made it.”

“So did Gabe,” Steve added, though he knew that Gabe took a shot to the shoulder – it wasn’t like the one Bucky took – not the one that shattered his arm. Gabe’s had been clean, through and through. Lucky, he’d been lucky. 

“We all did,” Bucky said and his voice faltered, because he knew what would happen when they got to Landstuhl Regional Medical Center in Germany. That arm wouldn’t be saved, couldn’t be saved. Not after the shot and the infection. It might have been saved days ago, but the fact of the matter was that they had gotten separated – Peggy and Sam in one group, Gabe, Steve, and Bucky in the other. It had been Rumlow’s plan all along. They fell right into it. 

“Jokes on them, right?” Bucky whispers and Steve can hardly hear it over the whine of the plane’s engines. “We still got back. They got dead or arrested.”

“Got dead,” Steve said and suffered another spike of pain as the plane started to wheel down the runway. “Who taught you English?”

“Best of the best, Sister Mary Jo? Was that her name?” Bucky said but Steve found he couldn’t answer. His sight blurred and his eyes grew heavy. Bucky called him from a million miles away – down a long dark tunnel but he couldn’t move his lips to reply. Eventually the darkness of the tunnel collapsed in on him.

When he finally emerged from what could only be thought of as some kind of cocoon of medicine and treatment, Steve blinked awake to find Colonel Phillips sitting by his bed with Peggy standing close by. He attempted to figure out the expressions on their faces but his powers of analysis failed him. He glanced around and realized he was no longer on the transport plane but in a bed, in some hospital. 

“Where?” Steve said and noticed the click and hiss and beep of the instruments around him. Peggy looked flawless, not a scratch on her. Some time must have passed since the last time he laid eyes on her. He recalled when he’d seen her finally after the fight and their separation, she had a substantial bruise on her cheek, and a cut above her right brow. 

“You’re in the hospital in Germany,” Peggy said and she stepped around the Colonel’s chair to pick up the cup on the tray. It had a straw and she angled it so he could sip. She peered over her shoulder at Phillips before she continued. “You’ve been in a medically induced coma for a while.”

“Wh-what?” The words refused to process and he swallowed the water as if it was nectar from the heavens. “How long?”

She placed her hand on his shoulder. “Seven weeks.”

“What?” He pressed against the mattress but his body shivered in response. He fell back into the comfort of the pillows. “My mom.”

“Is fine. She’s actually here. She’ll be in soon. The doctors are speaking with her now,” Peggy said. 

The whole thing seemed too surreal, too prominent like a screaming headache throbbing against his temples. “I don’t, I don’t understand?”

Colonel Phillips climbed to his feet and walked to the other side of the bed. “Listen here Captain Rogers, what you did, how you got your men and women out of that fire fight and got everyone back-.”

He remembered little, but one thing he did recall. “We were split up. I didn’t do anything.”

“Like hell, you didn’t. You had one man with an arm damn near blasted off, another man with a concussion and a shot through the shoulder. All the while you were separated from the rest of your unit, you kept your head and got your men out of there. Against all odds.”

The memories flooded in but it wasn’t a crashing amount but more of a dribble that grew as he accessed more and more. Rumlow and his warlord friends along with that strange terrorist group, Hydra, attacking at night. Steve called for Peggy and Sam to go for backup. And then all hell did break loose and the rest of his team tried to hold their ground. He shouldn’t have allowed it. He should have retreated with Peggy and Sam. But his honor and responsibility overtook his common sense. He knew he had to bring Rumlow in, alive. They engaged and he nearly got them all killed. 

“Should have retreated with Peggy and Sam,” Steve said and the shudder of guilt ran through him.

“Don’t you remember, Steve?” Peggy said. She cupped his hand in hers. “You were cut off. Rumlow and his team came directly for you. Only Sam and I were outside the fight. It’s the only reason we were able to get backup.”

He remembered yelling into the comms, and Sam calling back – that they were clear, that they could get back up. Sam had the pararescue suit– he would have to leave Peggy to fly. Steve hated it, hated the thought of a lone soldier, but there had been no other choice. 

She smiled. “You did the right thing. You held them off, managed to defeat them, arrest most of them before rescue came.”

“Yeah,” he said and licked his lips. She offered him more water and his head hurt. His eyes teared and as he tried to sort things out in his brain the doctor and his mother entered. “Ma.”

“Oh my boy,” his mom said and immediately embraced him as Peggy and the Colonel backed off. For a petite Irish woman, Sarah Rogers possessed a strength beyond her size. But he noticed immediately how gingerly she held him, how gentle and tender her actions were. “My boy.”

When she pulled away, he saw the tears in her eyes. He didn’t know what was going on, hadn’t a clue about his prognosis. He flickered a glance at Peggy but her expression offered no hint about his condition. Finally, he turned to the doctor, a woman that looked like she came from Norwegian stock and not German.

She smiled at him and said, “I’m Doctor Frigga Odinson. I’ve been your doctor these weeks, Captain Rogers. You may feel a little disoriented, weak, even a little dizzy at times as you become more aware.”

“I don’t understand. What happened?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Doctor Odinson asked.

Steve closed his eyes and felt the enclosed space of the plane again, smelled the fresh blood mixed with the jet fuel. “The medical transport plane.”

“Good, that’s good,” she said and gently touched his hand. “I’m going to do some tests as I explain to you what happened. Is that okay?”

He nodded. 

“If the others could leave the room? Perhaps Mrs. Rogers could stay?” The doctor said.

Both Peggy and Colonel Phillips wished him well. Peggy gave him a kiss on the cheek and when Steve happened to glance Phillips’ way he raised a brow and said, “I’m not kissing you.”

That put a smile on everyone’s face and Steve relaxed a bit until the door shut behind them and the doctor turned back to her exam. His mother moved off as Doctor Odinson began. The doctor spoke in quiet tones. “When you arrived at the hospital, Captain, your injury, which was an impact injury to the upper spine, had caused swelling. The swelling of the spine led to a buildup of pressure in the spinal fluid. This, in turn, led to the dangerous risk of swelling in your brain.” He felt himself starting to shake as she continued checking his heart and lungs. “Mrs. Rogers, please.” She gestured for his mother to join them. She did and clasped Steve’s trembling hand.

“Because of the swelling around your spine several things happened. You were not able to breathe on your own, your brain began to swell due to the spinal fluid issues, and you were paralyzed from the chest down.” 

“No,” Steve said and he felt the bile back up in his throat. “I can feel my legs, my hands.”

“Yes, and you should be able to because the swelling has gone down,” she said. “I’m going to test your reflexes as we talk.” She started on the task as she continued explaining his condition and what had happened. “You were intubated to help you breathe, and you were put in an induced coma to help protect your brain as we dealt with the fluid back up. We did shunt the fluid for a while, but that shunt has been removed.” She touched the back of his head as if to tell him where the shunt had been. It felt a little sore. “Don’t worry too much about it.”

“I have a headache,” Steve responded, because the thought of having a traumatic injury to his spine and brain terrified him. 

“That’s to be expected. Because we induced a coma, the after effects can take some time to get over. We actually removed the medical induction of the coma a few days ago. You’ve been in and out since. You’re making great progress.” She finished up testing his knees for reflexes. “All of your reflexes are in good shape. It’s only a matter of time before your strong enough to get up and around, Captain.”

It occurred to him that he wasn’t a Captain, not yet. “Not a Captain.”

She smiled. “That’s not what they tell me.”

Steve didn’t answer; a weariness came over him and the doctor told him to rest. 

Throughout the next few days, he drifted in and out of sleeping and waking. He wanted to ask so many questions, wanted to know about Bucky, about the rest of his unit, about his friends – about Tony. But his strength failed him and he surrendered to the exhaustion. By the end of the first week of his recovery, he was able to stay awake for more than a couple of hours.

“You’re doing great,” Peggy said as she helped him out of bed into a wheelchair. They wouldn’t let him walk around for any period of time yet because he was a fall risk and therefore could injure himself again. 

“I don’t understand why my legs are so weak,” Steve said as he braced himself against the bedrail and lowered into the chair. 

“The bruising of your spine and the seven weeks in bed didn’t do you any favors, Steve,” Peggy said. “Now do you want to go and see Bucky or not?”

“You’re a tyrant,” he said but agreed. When he looked up at her as she went to fetch a blanket from his bed, Peggy smiled. “I was wondering.” He started but stopped. 

“Yes?” She tucked the blanket around his legs.

“Do you think it would be possible to get my phone or a tablet or something? I’d like to contact – you know – home?” What could have happened in the intervening time? Did anyone contact Tony? His heart weighed down his chest as the memory of the letter came to mind. “I just want to see-.”

Peggy patted his shoulder. “I’ll see what I can do.”

She wheeled him out into the corridor. The harried busyness of the hospital nearly sent him into the tailspin. He still managed dizziness and some nausea. The doctor said the after effects of the induced coma would linger for a while but would dissipate as the days passed. He bowed his head and closed his eyes. Peggy seemed to anticipate his issues and quickly steered him down the hall toward a small café. There he found Sam and Gabe sitting at a table with Bucky playing cards. As Bucky turned toward Steve, the reality set in and Steve suffered through a new bout of nausea. Bucky’s left arm was gone below the shoulder just below the bicep. 

Bucky must have seen the pale sheen come to Steve’s face and he dropped his cards. “Hey, hey, hey, don’t go there.” He stood up – and except for his arm looked the model of health. The same could be used to describe both Sam and Gabe. Weeks, months had gone by as Steve slept. Bucky knelt at the front of the wheelchair while both Sam and Gabe joined them, standing to the side. “It’s okay. I’m gonna be okay.”

Steve forced the tears away. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have allowed the mission. I should have said something to Phillips. I should-.”

“You shouldn’t have.” Colonel Phillips’ voice came from behind them, but Steve heard the shuffle of his boots on the polished tiled floor. He moved to stand in front of Steve. “Captain, you did everything you were asked to do. Your soldiers were exemplary. You were in a tough situation. If there is any blame, it is mine. I had thought that the Rumlow would wait until the week was out before the attack, letting everyone get tired and bored and exhausted. That’s what the intelligence said, but unfortunately, he did not. If he had, you would have had that back up sooner. You took a hit, a hard one, and that’s on me, Captain. Don’t you forget it.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve said and then asked, “Sir, people keep calling me Captain – I’m not-.”

“Your field promotion came through after the Command found out about the mission and your bravery,” Peggy said. “They waved the rest of the requirements.”

“Waved? The English class?” Steve asked and felt Bucky take hold his hand. 

“Everything, you’re a Field Captain now, Steve,” Peggy said.

The enormity struck him and he managed not to break down but luckily the rest of his unit and Colonel Phillips recognized his state. Phillips excused himself – saying he had a luncheon to attend while the rest of his unit huddled around him. He basked in the support but felt guilty all the same.

“I shouldn’t be getting rewarded. I didn’t do anything,” Steve said.

“Other than go down with the plane,” Bucky said. When Steve grimaced, Bucky rolled his eyes. “Okay, there wasn’t a literal plane, but you fought tooth and nail – practically alone.” Both Sam and Gabe nodded. “Still don’t know how you managed it, but you kept Rumlow and his team, plus the locals, off of us for days, Steve. Days. And then managed to capture him.”

“You were there, too,” Steve said.

“Nearly incapacitated.” Bucky shook his head. “Right, Gabe?”

“Yeah, and my shot might have been minor.” Steve could see that he didn’t even have a sling at all. “But the concussion really put me out of commission most of the time. Most I could do is load guns.”

Steve tried to recall more of the details – and he remembered a lot of it –the fear and the anxiety, the horror of it. He remembered the pain in his back but fighting through it. “Yeah, I remember.” He still felt the guilt smack him in the face as he thought of Bucky’s shattered arm.

“Don’t do that,” Bucky said. “I’m not. I don’t think you should either.”

Steve nodded but had no more words to share. They invited him to join their card game and he honestly tried, but he asked to go back to his room within a hand. Bucky tried to ask him to stay, but the truth kept hitting him and he needed some peace to come to terms with it. He realized now how right Tony was – he felt adrift with no one to talk to. Maybe he could borrow someone’s phone or tablet to get in touch with Tony. Two months had gone by. Steve had missed Christmas and New Year’s Eve. It was the middle of February. 

Eventually he gathered up the courage to ask Peggy for her phone so he could at least check his email – send a note to Tony to apologize for the long silence. He had no idea if Tony even knew what happened. Peggy had no trouble giving him her phone; she unlocked it for him and then left his room after she’d gotten him into bed. He accessed the internet and pulled up his mail first – he thought it would be best if he sent a message. He had no idea how angry Tony would be.

The first emails he saw concerned his promotion. The first field promotion in the program – he should be proud and he was, but it also ached through him. He filed it and then went to an email from the university. The subject line was English 13B: The Lost Art of Correspondence. He frowned but pressed the link to open up the message.

TO: srogers at themail.com  
FROM: Nfury at MIT.EDU

 _Captain Rogers,_  
As per your request your grade has been changed to a pass/fail. Your final report is due no later than 22 December. If you fail to send in the assignment, you will be assigned an incomplete. The incomplete status will change to a FAIL if you do not send in your final report by 21 January.

_N. Fury._

Steve stared at the message and swallowed down his disappointment. The pass/fail option had to be invoked by one of the students in the pen pal pair. That meant that Tony changed it to pass/fail. Steve understood; he couldn’t not understand. Steve had been off the grid for most of December – not sending anything. Not responding to anything. It happened then, the memory of that last letter Tony sent to him.

_I think I’m falling in love with you_

And Steve had never responded. Tony reached out, hopeful, didn’t even know that Steve might be gay. He sent out a branch, a letter to open the door. Steve hadn’t replied. He never had the time. Not when the letter had been clenched in his hand as he drove off to the disastrous mission. Steve wiped away the tears burning his eyes. He flicked through the emails and went to the last one Tony sent him.

TO: srogers at themail.com  
FROM: tstark at MIT.EDU

Just to tell you, I changed our status to pass/fail. I also wanted to apologize for the letter. I realize it was a mistake. Forget that you ever read it, forget it – all of it. I know you are busy out there, doing your perimeter sweeps or whatever. I know sending you some lovelorn letter was infantile and stupid beyond words. Let’s just say I had a momentary weakness, but I’m better now. I get it. I was barking up the wrong tree. Whatever, wouldn’t be the first time, won’t be the last. I hope you have a good Christmas. You’ll probably get a note from Fury about the switch to pass/fail but it’s really from Natasha. She did all the paperwork for us. Anyhow – see you around. No harm done, okay?

 

Steve sat staring at the email; his heart like a riveter in his chest. He dropped his hand, the phone still cradled there. He didn’t open up any of the other messages. He tried to put together a cognizant reply, but nothing came to mind. His head stayed blank and gray. When Sam walked into the room, Steve only managed a weak smile. The phone dead in his hand.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

Steve only shook his head. “Did I thank you for getting back up?” 

“No, man, and you don’t have to. The Colonel had them set up, it was just a point of getting to them. They monitored our comms, but when Rumlow split us up, everything went to shit. You went after them with Bucky and Gabe. But anyhow, I didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have,” Sam said. “I’ve gotten used to the idea that when someone starts shooting at you, they usually start shooting at me, too.” 

Steve chuckled but his chest felt hollow. “Sorry, Sam. I just – I’m not good company right now.”

“Steve, you do know that you’re a hero. You saved Bucky. He would have died, Gabe would have died, you all would have died. You were like some kind of modern Gunga Din but without all the imperialistic and racists overtones.”

Steve smiled and this time it warmed him instead of leaving him empty. “Thanks, Sam. It’s just that I was working so hard for this promotion and I kind of missed it.” He didn’t add that he missed his chance with Tony. 

“You deserve it. Don’t go and try and say you don’t.”

He could argue the point. He shouldn’t have taken Bucky and Gabe with him to go after Rumlow and his team. But it was Steve’s duty, to bring Rumlow to justice. When Rumlow with the Hydra terrorist cell attacked and caused absolute havoc at their small encampment, Steve did the one thing he could think of – he got some Sam and Peggy to go for reinforcements and he, Bucky, and Gabe went after Rumlow. He supposed that Rumlow thought he’d killed them, leaving the camp devastated. But they were still alive and they went after Rumlow. The battle had been fought and Steve won. But at what cost? Why Rumlow did it, still lingered as a question. By why did people betray family, friends, their country? Steve would never understand it.

Sam was still talking as Steve brushed aside the memories. “After what you did, you deserve happiness.”

Steve raised his one hand. “I’m not. But I missed it.”

“There will be a ceremony, you know. The one where you get the rank and your purple heart,” Sam said. “Officially, they already gave you the purple heart.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Steve replied. He looked down at the phone and wondered if he should try – just this once. “Sam, can I ask you a question?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders, “Anything for you, Cap.”

He inhaled to steady himself before he launched into the explanation. “So, it’s been like two months, and I haven’t talked to – to Tony since before the mission.”

“Yeah, did anyone get in touch with him?” 

Steve considered it but then said, “Apparently not. I got this message that I was enrolled for the pass/fail option in that class we were taking. It was something they did in December after Tony didn’t hear from me, I suppose. My transcript says I failed now, because I never turned in the report at the end of the class.”

“That’s bullshit -.”

Before Sam could rant about it, Steve stopped him. “That’s not the problem. Well, it’s a problem but it isn’t _the_ problem. The problem is – well – right when we were leaving we got those letters, remember?”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

“I got one from Tony, and – well-.” Steve looked away to the windows. “I think I missed my chance.”

Sam waited a moment before he asked, “Your chance?”

“Yeah.”

Stepping closer to the bed, Sam studied Steve and then said, “Chances don’t evaporate overnight, you know.”

“They do over two months,” Steve replied and then sighed. “Listen, I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s just nothing, really.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“It is,” Steve said. “He’s moved on. It was pretty clear from the email he sent. Moved on with everything. So I should leave him alone. I’ve probably done enough damage. I can’t even imagine how he must have felt when I didn’t respond, send a letter, nothing – after he said he love me-.” Steve stopped and pressed his lips into a thin line.

“He said he loved you?” Sam gaped at him.

“Said he was falling in love, thought he was falling in love. I don’t even have the letter anymore. Probably got thrown out with my bloody clothes.” Steve shrugged. “It doesn’t matter that was months ago, before Christmas.”

“Geez, no, you gotta contact him. You have to,” Sam said and the urgency Steve felt when he first read that line _falling in love_ ratcheted up again. “At least put the man out of his misery and tell him you’re okay. Please, come on.”

“I don’t know. I just,” Steve said and held the phone. The screen had blackened due to inactivity. “I don’t even have Peggy’s security code to get back into her phone.”

Sam tugged out his phone and tossed it onto Steve’s lap. “You can use mine. My security code is 0428. And don’t ask.” 

He gazed down at the phone as if it was a live alligator on his bed. “I don’t know. I don’t think-.”

“Don’t think, feel,” Sam said. He took Peggy’s phone, placed his own phone in Steve’s hand, and then went to leave. With a pause at the door, he said, “Call him. Do something, Steve. You deserve happiness.”

After Sam left Steve continued to stare at the phone. There was no way on God’s green Earth he could muster the courage to call Tony or even text him. That just hurt way too much. He had only one avenue. An email. A fast, quick email. Nothing more, nothing less. At the very least, he could apologize for never answering Tony’s letter. 

TO: tstark at MIT.EDU  
FROM: srogers at themail.com

 _Dear Tony_  
I wanted to send you a message to apologize. I am sorry that I never sent you a response to your letter. There are explanations. Long and complicated, but I have no right to ask you to listen to them. I have no right to really send you this email in the first place. But I feel like I should – at the very least to apologize for the lack of communication. So, please, accept my apology.

I saw that you switched our grades to pass/fail and I appreciate why you did it. I hope you sent in your assignment and passed. I hope I didn’t muck that up as well. 

Like I said, I could send you an explanation, go into the details of what happened – why I never answered – but I am not going to. I think I’ve caused enough pain for you. I didn’t mean to, at all.

I will say this though, if I had the chance, if there was a chance at all to respond to you. I would have. I really would have. And the answer to your question – am I interested? The answer would have been –

Yes.

Because I think I fell already.

_Yours (if you’ll still have me), Steve_

He sat there for a full five minutes reading and re-reading the letter, changing it here and there. Until finally he had decided to delete the whole damned thing but then the nurse came in and he hit the send, instead of delete. He could try and retrieve it, but he shook his head. Maybe his humiliation was meant to be. 

The nurse spent time taking his vitals and some blood samples. The amount of blood they took in the hospital bordered on the insane. Someone would think he had some super secret serum running through his veins that they were trying to duplicate. Eventually she left.

When he checked the phone again, he’d gotten a reply. He never expected a response; he especially never expected a response within two minutes of sending his email.

TO: srogers at themail.com  
FROM: tstark at MIT.EDU

What does long and complicated mean?

 

That was the entire email. One sentence. Steve supposed that Tony deserved an explanation. Really, he should just get it over with and call, but his fingers trembled, and his heart nearly choked him as he answered the email.

 

TO: tstark at MIT.EDU  
FROM: srogers at themail.com

Remember that mission? It went south. I got injured. Apparently worse than I thought. I spent a few weeks in the hospital. I’m getting out soon. 

 

He sent the email and in seconds received a reply.

TO: srogers at themail.com  
FROM: tstark at MIT.EDU

What the fuck? Hospital? Where? I don’t fucking care if I have a committee meeting next week. Where are you? How injured?

 

Instead of emailing, Steve figured he could manage a text message – and he figured that Sam probably wouldn’t mind too much. So he switched to texting. 

_It’s me, Steve._

_A text – that means what?_

_I’m at Landstuhl, in Germany_

_A fucking hospital. WHAT HAPPENED_

Steve stared at the text and flinched. He really thought he could avoid confessing this to anyone – especially Tony. But he went ahead, because enough had been hidden in the last few weeks.

_Spinal bruising, caused swelling. Brain and spine._

_WTF!!!!!!!_

Steve laughed a little and he noticed his hands weren’t shaking as much anymore. _Med Induced Coma 7 weeks_. Might as well get the truth out there as quickly as possible.

After ten minutes, Steve wondered if he’d lost receipt and checked for the bars. They were still strong. Then the phone rang in his hand. He recognized the number – Tony. He had this one chance. Fate had given him a chance; he only needed to leap. He thought that maybe he wasn’t strong enough yet. Not quite so strong. Maybe he didn’t have the courage, either. 

But his traitorous thumb hit the answer and he brought the phone up to his ear. “Yes?”

“God damn it, Steve, you fucking almost died, didn’t you?” Tony sounded breathless, sounded wounded. Steve detected an almost hyperventilating pattern to his breathing.

“Hey, hey, calm down. I’m fine. I’m good. I’m sitting here in the hospital. Got all my fingers and toes,” he said and then stopped because he remembered Bucky and that stabbed a twist to his heart. He must have made a sound.

“What? What is it?” 

“Bucky wasn’t so lucky. He lost his left arm,” Steve said and his voice shook, and he tried – he tried to stem the flow. He’d held it back – screwed it tight so that it would come, but now it did. The tears streamed down his face and the only thing that came to mind was that he thanked God for Tony. “Tony, he almost died.”

“You almost died, too. But you’re not and he’s not, right?”

He nodded and then murmured, “Yeah.” A cold chill shivered through him. “I’m cold, Tony.”

“Call in the nurse, right now. Hit the damned button.” Steve reached for the call button. Tony urged him. “Are you hitting it? Did you press the button?”

“Yeah, I’m pressing it now. Don’t hang up. I’m so sorry. I screwed everything up, Tony. Everything.” The room swam around him as the nurse raced in. She took one look at him and her eyes softened as if she knew immediately what had happened. Of course, she did – how many more shocked and traumatized soldiers had she cared for over the years. “She’s here.”

“Tell her,” Tony said and the tenderness in his voice washed over Steve like a blessing. 

“I don’t know what to say,” Steve whispered into the phone, but the nurse (an older lady) patted his hand.

“You don’t have to say anything. I’ll be one minute,” she said and left, but came back in seconds with a warmed blanket, wrapping it around his shoulders. She gathered him up in her broad arms and held him. “I’ve seen a lot of our soldiers come back and feel like this. You have every right, you understand?” 

He dropped his hand that clutched the phone. He buried his face in the nurse’s shoulder and felt like he should have been able to say something to his mother, to Sam, to Peggy – but his courage escaped him. Tony guided him; Tony helped him. The phone buzzed in his hand and the nurse drew away from him.

“I can have a doctor come in and talk to you soon,” she said and he swallowed down his fears to nod. “Take a moment and allow yourself to feel.” The phone buzzed again. “Do you want me to give you a sedative?” When he shook his head and the phone buzzed again, she said, “Now I think you’re friend wants to talk to you. I’m going to leave, but I am right outside the door. Is that okay?”

He wiped away the tears and said, “Yes, thank you.” As she left, Steve glanced down at the phone to see that Tony had called twice. He must have disconnected and then tried to call to find out what happened. To stop him from worrying, Steve went ahead and re-called him again. When he answered, Steve said, “Tony?”

“Yeah, are you okay? I was about to call the hospital or hack into it.” Tony sighed into the phone. “I need to know you’re okay.”

“I don’t know. I really don’t,” Steve said. “But I need to know we’ll be okay. I’m so sorry-.”

“Steve, stop, stop. We – I made mistakes, too. I should have been more patient, but when I couldn’t get in touch with you after the letter-.” He paused. “God, I wish I could see your face.”

“I don’t know Sam’s password. I can’t use facetime or whatever,” Steve said. “I don’t have my own phone, pretty sure it was blown away during the mission.”

“Jesus, Steve, I can’t even imagine. Are you okay now?” Tony asked but his voice sounded hushed, fragile.

“Yeah, they had to put me in an induced coma until the swelling went down. The last week or so I’ve been recovering from that, everything else is good. I’m just a little nauseous and light headed some time,” Steve explained. “How about you? I mean, do you forgive me?”

Tony whistled and then said, “Forgive you? There’s nothing to forgive. I mean, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Steve cut in. “I would have answered your letter – I would have. But I received it just as I left for the mission. Mail is always slow around the holidays. And shit, I missed the holidays. I bought something for you-.”

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t end up getting anything for you. If I did, I kind of smashed it up – but don’t worry about it.”

“Smashed it up?”

“Into little tiny itty bitty pieces,” Tony replied. “I can be petulant and have a toddler streak – I hope you’re ready for it.”

Steve smiled. “I think, with you, I’m ready for anything.”

Steve meant it too, and over the next two weeks as he transitioned from full time care in the hospital to the local base for rehabilitation, he spent hours talking to Tony. Peggy and Sam bought him a new phone and helped him set it up. The rehabilitation center focused on getting him ready to travel. He didn’t see why he needed it. Except for the occasional fatigue and dizziness, he felt ready to take on the world. Bucky refused to let him leave the rehab center, though. His friend comprehended more about Steve sometimes than he even knew himself. By the end of the first week in rehab, Steve understood why he needed to be there – the trauma of the mission, both physical and psychological took a toll on him. He’d been lucky enough to convince Tony to stay put in Massachusetts since he had a big meeting – committee meeting, as he called it – about his doctorate (though Steve thought Tony might have used plural there, as in doctorates). 

Two weeks into his stay at the rehab, he finally got the news that he would be released and transferred home. Bucky would be leaving Germany as well, though he would end up back in rehab in the States. Steve would be allowed extended leave to finish his recuperation at home. He made plans with his mother to return to Brooklyn. She’d left Germany to get things ready as she put it, though he had no idea what she meant by ‘things’. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. His motor-functions had returned to their pre-injury status, and the headaches and nausea abated. The doctors’ lingering concerns about his psychological state assigned him to recovery. He didn’t argue. If Steve had one characteristic, then it was always that he understood when a soldier wasn’t ready to go back into the battle. His trust and his faith not only in his fellow soldier but himself had been deeply shaken. Going to some rehab to work through his traumatic issues felt like the right thing to do. Also, if he didn’t, he was sure Bucky would box him one. 

Boarding the plane to go back home heightened his anxiety but in a good way. Sam and Bucky flew with him. Gabe had already left for leave to see his family ages ago. Steve had to say goodbye to Peggy. She was going back to Britain. He hated to see her go, but she had other duties and hanging around the hospital only delayed them. He didn’t try and find out how she even managed to stick with them so long. He was flying into LaGuardia and Tony promised to meet him. The flight drew out his excitement and finally he fell asleep. He still had a tendency to sleep long hours after his ordeal, but the doctors told him not to fight it. It would decrease his headaches and his dizziness – which it did, but he was impatient to get on with his life. 

Bucky leaned over to him on the commercial flight back. “Go to sleep. It will be better once you get there if you’ve had rest.”

“I know. I just haven’t seen him in ages, and I-.” Steve bit back his words. Since their conversation after they’d found one another again, they’d talked every day, texted more than was healthy Steve was sure. And he’d fallen so deeply and soundly in love, he worried that the difference between the virtual and reality would shatter his hopes. 

Bucky lifted his left shoulder, a blunted movement. “You gotta do it. Steve, look at me. I’m going all out now. I’m not letting anything hold me back. I lost my arm but not my resolve to live life. You gotta do the same. You almost lost everything.”

Steve swallowed down his fears. “I get it.”

“Yeah, you do,” Bucky said and didn’t sound the least bit convinced. “Look, you keep thinking that the whole damned mission was about how Gabe and me got hit. But it’s not. You got hit, the worst. I might have lost my arm, but you came within a hair of being paralyzed from the shoulders down. Think about that. You might look like the model of health compared to me, but I remember when you were a sickly little kid. Don’t deny that this just scared the shit out of you.”

“I’m not,” Steve said and looked out the window of the plane as they flew over the ocean. 

“No? You are. You’re still pretending. But what I’m trying to tell you is that you gotta go for it. Go for life with gusto. Just jump in. Why wait? Nothing should stop you.” Bucky rested back in his seat. “No reason to. I’m not gonna let anything stop me anymore.”

“When did anything ever stop you?” Sam joked from across the aisle. 

Bucky closed his eyes and said, “You’d be surprised.”

With that note, Steve reclined his seat and tried to get some sleep. He managed a bit and was grateful when the plane finally landed in the States. As they taxied to the gate, Steve pulled out his new phone and texted Tony.

_Just landed_

The answer popped up almost immediately. _Finally!_

Steve smiled and Bucky snickered. “Glad you’re taking my advice.”

“Don’t be a jerk,” Steve said as he stuffed his phone back in his pocket. Everyone started to stand and pull their cases from the bins and under the seats as the plane parked. 

Bucky only grabbed Steve by the arm and squeezed. “I’m happy for you; this is me being happy.”

Steve bowed his head and smiled. “Yeah, I know.”

“Go get your man,” Bucky said with a knock to Steve’s elbow. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughed as they waited to deplane. It took far too long and all the while Steve thought his jittery nerves might actually implode. Normally he dealt with waiting with patience and calm, but this was so different. This was Tony – someone he loved. Loved in a much different way than his mom, or Bucky, or Sam, anyone. 

Getting off the plane and going through customs dragged every moment out until Steve’s nerves felt like needles under his skin. He needed to get out of there and see Tony. He needed to finally be able to see him, to touch him, to ---. His brain froze. How much he wanted it. How much he wanted to just hold him and not hide it, not pretend. He cruised through customs and then pulled his duffle to his back and headed toward the exit. Sam and Bucky laughed as they trailed behind him. He should chastise them, but truly he didn’t care. Tony was supposed to be there, waiting for him. For him! The very thought of it sent his head spinning until he thought he might relapse again.

Finally he walked down the ramp way to the main exit and searched around – the crowd was thick as it always was for a major airport. He scanned the area but caught no sign of Tony. For a moment, he considered the idea that maybe Tony didn’t come. Maybe he’d been reading too much into their conversations, their letters, their correspondence.

But then Bucky leaned in close to him, tapped his shoulder. When Steve whipped around to look at Bucky, he smiled and then pointed into the mass of people. People around them greeted and hugged, but Steve only had eyes for one person, one man in the sea around him. Bucky stepped back and Steve dropped his duffle, he took a step, and then one more. He didn’t need to call out or say a word. Tony spotted him.

Tony raced to him, jumped, and Steve caught him as if he was always made to hold this man, as if the touch was natural. Steve buried his face in Tony’s hair as Tony wrapped his legs around Steve, shuddered with utter joy and embraced him, enveloped him, showed him what happiness could be. 

They stood like that for several minutes with Tony wrapped around Steve, and Steve taking in the fragrance, the weight, the reality of love in his arms. When Tony finally pulled away, Steve fought it, because he never wanted the moment to end, but then he realized if he didn’t let it go, the next moment, and the next moment, and all the moments to come would never be. He slackened his hold and Tony slipped down to the floor, but he swayed into Steve and they still held onto one another, as if each of them happened to be the other’s lifeline. 

Steve reached up, cupped Tony’s face in his large hand, and then said, “Finally.”

Maybe the kiss wasn’t epic, maybe it didn’t garner romantic movie appeal, maybe it was clumsy and messy. But maybe, to him, it was just perfect.

CHAPTER 11 EPILOGUE – one year later

“Stop fussing over it,” Tony said and shrugged his shoulders. He stood appraising himself in the mirror. They called the white gown with three red bar embellishments on the arms and the red velvet down the center zipper doctorate regalia. He had a gray beanie to wear as well; there was a formal name for it – but it looked like a freaking Girl Scout beanie – or something a fake artist would wear. 

Steve stood behind Tony, lightly brushing away lint from his shoulders. Tony felt like Steve played the part of a valet. He didn’t need a valet right now (or ever) – what he needed was a boyfriend to calm his nerves. It wasn’t every day a graduate student received three doctorates at the same time on the stage of MIT. 

“This is a big deal and I will fuss over you as much as I want,” Steve said. He wore his dress blues. Even though his status as a field promoted Captain remained enlisted, the program allowed for him to wear the blues of a commissioned officer. In everything save the commission from Congress, Steve qualified for the officer rank. The Secretary of the Army currently worked on trying to get commissions for the new program of field promotion. While some enlisted could switch over to an officer program, most didn’t have the time in their schedules to fit in a college degree along with further educational pursuits. The field promotion program changed all of that, or so Tony understood.

It still blew his mind that he’d learned so much of the details about promotions, enlisted, officers, all of it in such a short time. Back in the day when he followed his dad around like a sick puppy, the army was good for one thing – as a buyer of weapons. Steve taught him a lot and he felt privileged to share this day with him, especially since Steve was also getting his degree – his bachelor’s. 

“What about you?” Tony said as he gazed over his shoulder in the mirror at Steve. “You need fussing, too.” Steve read his intentions and his face warmed to a blush of pink.

“No fussing until after. I just got my dress blues cleaned and pressed,” Steve said. 

Tony turned around to check out the medals, the Purple Heart, the medal for valor. He had so many medals, Tony still didn’t know them all. “You know one day you’ll have to walk me through all of these medals.”

“One day, but today isn’t about me. It’s about you,” Steve said in one breath. He did that sometimes, decreased the significance of his own accomplishments in order to deflect the attention.

“Hey, you’re not getting away with it. You’re getting your degree, too.”

“Yeah, but like we talked about, I still need to be in the Army for another four years to pay it off. That means being away from you,” Steve said as he fiddled with Tony’s collar. Tony captured Steve’s hands and brought them to his lips. He kisses each and then looked into the eyes of his beloved. 

“You know I’m following you everywhere, right?”

“If they deploy me to a danger zone, you’re not going to come. Not at all. You can’t.” Steve said and sighed. “But we can’t think about that – not today.”

“But you know I’m still following you, even if I have to build a suit of armor,” Tony said as he clasped Steve’s hands in his own. “It will be my superhero origin story!” 

Steve raised a brow. “Well, let’s just hope I don’t have to be fridged in order for you to be heroic and find a motivation to fly around shooting people with your laser beam eyes.”

Tony chuckled. “You’re such a dork. It wouldn’t be laser beam eyes, it would be fired repulsors from my palms and a unibeam from my chest.” He gave a cackling laugh.

Steve only shook his head. “Now that sounds more like an evil villain laugh to me.” 

“Give the villain a kiss and let’s make out before the ceremony,” Tony said as he slid his hands around Steve’s waist. 

“Tony, you don’t have time for that nonsense.”

At the sound of his mother’s voice, Tony jumped away from Steve. His boyfriend only laughed and said, “Tony’s almost done, ma’am. I’ll have him in the car in a moment.”

Maria glanced at Tony with a smirk and then smiled at Steve, “It’s nice to see someone in this family understands schedules and priorities.” She gave Tony the once over, and then crossed his east side of the loft. Kissing him on the cheek, she smiled and said, “You might not know it but your father is very proud of you.”

“I doubt that,” Tony said. “But thanks for saying it.”

She grabbed his hands and held them for a minute. “Captain Rogers is one of the best things that’s ever happened to you.”

“Ma’am, I-.” Steve said and he finally colored a ruby red shade which Tony reveled in. A little humble pie might get Tony more than a cuddle before the graduation. 

“Now, hush,” His mother said. “We all know the truth of it. Your father sees what you’re doing now as a necessary thing.”

“Necessary evil,” Tony muttered while Steve knocked him with his elbow. He frowned at Steve, but succumbed to the richness of optimism in the room. “Fine, fine. Dad is turning over a new leaf.”

His mother gave a small scoff and patted his shoulder. “Now I wouldn’t exaggerate. But he has seen the logic in being a leading country in clean energy and how that will keep our place in this vulnerable world.”

“Yes, we wouldn’t want to be number two,” Tony said and then huffed when Steve gave him the ‘look’. “Okay, I get it. I will be on my best behavior.”

She considered him and then eyed Steve who only nodded to her and looked like he might stand at attention any minute. Their relationship had been more than amicable, something that Tony frequently lamented how his mom and Steve’s mom treated Steve like sun rays shot out of his butt – which Tony had to admit he kind of felt the same way about Steve as well. So he couldn’t blame either mother.

“Thank you, dears,” Maria said and then pecked Steve on the cheek (though he had to lean down for her), too. “Hurry now, the car is waiting.” 

Before she left, Tony called out to his mother, “You look beautiful, Mom.” And she did in her smart light blue suit. She looked the picture of mature beauty, something that Tony had never really seen before until Steve pointed it out. Steve with the artist’s heart and the soldier’s brain.

“You are my joy, Tony,” Maria said as she quickly turned her face and rushed out of Tony’s wing of the loft. He heard her speak quietly to Pepper before she exited the apartment. 

Tony inhaled and tried to steady his nerves. He tried to place where the anxiety originated but he failed. Over the past year he completed three theses, defended the same in three grueling defense meetings, and now he would finally finish off his graduate career. At the ripe old age of 24 years old, he finished a lifetime’s worth of study. Steve held onto his shoulders and then pulled him close as if he read the signs and comprehended the fears, the doubts, and the exhilaration of the morning. They stood close and gathered together for what seemed like forever but also not long enough.

As Tony melted into Steve’s embrace he recalled the year past, how everything and nothing was the same and everything and nothing was different. The adjustment from being I to being we took a toll on both of them, but they survived and even flourished. Steve spent some time in rehab, which although he professed to not needing, in the end he did confess to actually breaking down and wanting it. His pain and terror from the attack ravaged him, and they finally dug down deep enough to realize it stemmed from the fact soldiers, American soldiers, betrayed them. 

“That’s what hurt the most,” Steve had said to him, one long and quiet night. They had been cuddled together in Tony’s massive bed, with Tony laying on top of Steve. “Like you said, we’re a band of brothers and sisters out there really. Family. It’s what you believe and sacrifice for, you know?”

Tony didn’t know but he nodded, keeping silent because the signs were there. Steve needed to talk it out. The shadows of his apprehension and stress crept in the corners of their relationship. 

“To have someone that I knew, that had vowed to defend the Constitution as I had, do something like that? For what? For money, for fame?” Steve sighed. His chest went up and down and Tony listened to the steady beat of his heart. “I will never understand it.”

“Do you have to?” Tony asked. It was a naïve question but one that begged to be asked.

“I’m not sure. It would be nice in order to ensure it doesn’t happen again. Was Rumlow missing something from his Army family? Were there warning signs? I know there were signs of belligerence. But some units are just like that – think they are bad asses or something.” Steve stroked a hand down Tony’s flank and rested it on his hip. 

“You just want to know so you can keep it from happening again,” Tony surmised.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” Steve slipped lower in the bed and then with Tony over him said, “I think I need you tonight. I need you to let me feel all of you.”

And Tony had – in so many ways. They’d been together for months, almost a year by that time – but it was nothing like that night. That night it was a confirmation, a validation of their beating hearts, their love, their devotion, but most of all it was a rite of passage – from being a pair to being one. Witnessing the adoration, the desire that filled Steve translated to so much more than a physical act for Tony. For Tony, it transformed his interpretation of love from something based on a lust and a chemistry of his brain to a transcendent experience. After that, the relationship changed for Tony. It wasn’t all about his needs, his wants. He learned something of empathy and of selflessness. 

How it would work with their relationship and Steve’s deployment was still a mystery. Steve had stayed State side over the last year. Because of his recuperation and rehabilitation, the Army assigned him to Walter Reed. He wasn’t officially a patient, but he did end up working with the patients, and teaching while he took courses at USUHS. He was a teaching assistant in Strategy classes for medical students. It had been weird when he spoke to Tony about it. But it helped him through the worst of his post-trauma recovery because one thing that Steve really needed was to feel useful. 

Having Steve in the DC region – so close but at a distance – helped Tony concentrate on his work. He burned the midnight oil until it scorched the bottom of the lamp. At the start of his graduate career he thought he would get one doctorate, but as he worked and collaborated and extended his studies, he applied and had been accepted for two other doctorates. Electrical engineering had been his first and central doctorate. Physics naturally added to that one and then finally Applied System Analysis. That one might be esoteric for most but it really did string all of his work on clean energy together since his research into the global nature of energy usage and the inequities between the developed world and the under developed world laced together his other two disciplines with his understanding of politics. Of course, having Steve and Pepper as his guides in his last doctorate pursuit had infinitely helped his progress.

“Are we ready?” Steve asked Tony. 

Tony leaned into him one last time before the final commencement. He had no idea why this moment stood against all the rest as something that frazzled him. It had to be the next step. Steve and Tony would spend a month just traveling and being together. The idea both excited and terrified Tony. Meanwhile, Steve couldn’t stop talking about it. Every day he must mention the trip – they had decided to split the trip. Half of it would be planned by Tony, the other half planned by Steve. The utter excitement Steve displayed put Tony in a bind because he just figured they would travel to Europe and backpack around on his half, but Steve kept insisting that it would be some grandiose adventure. 

So maybe it was that – or that Tony was leaving his childhood behind and everything in front of him was open and wide and a little too big.

“I’m right here, you know,” Steve said and rubbed a hand down Tony’s back. “You keep remembering that, okay?”

Tony smiled – how did he always know? “I’m ready.” 

Steve gave him one last kiss and they walked hand in hand out into the main lounge area of the loft. Pepper stood there; her eyes teary and bright. She would be leaving next semester for an internship out in California. It didn’t matter because as far as Tony was concerned, she would come back and work for him. Yet, losing her daily presence meant a dagger to the heart.

“You’re sure you can’t just intern for Stark Industries?” Tony asked one last time.

“No, I can’t.” Pepper squeezed his free hand. “I’ll be back. You know I will.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Tony said. 

As he went through with commencement, as he accepted his degree, and the hood of his doctorate, the world disintegrated around him. As if it suddenly pixelated and then flashed into something new and brave, Tony found – though the world looked the same - everything was different after the graduation. His friends would fly away from him – the moment freed them. Pepper off to an internship, T’Challa back home, Thor – who knew? That guy was weird along with his brother. Natasha would leave for an internship in Moscow. Clint was meeting up with her in Budapest and Tony didn’t really want to know why. 

Graduation did that – it tore apart families and friendships. It was meant to be a celebration and a new beginning but people tend to avoid that it really was an ending. An ending to his security, his life as the expert in his studies. Now he ventured out and teetered at the beginning of the climb, the start of the race. 

As if a sentinel by his side, Steve stood with him all through the parties, managed to ward off his father’s frowns, and finally got him out of the noise and chaos to get back the loft apartment. Pepper was gone for the night since her parents were in town, so they had the whole place to themselves. Finally.

He tore off his suit jacket his mother had made him wear to the formal dinner she and his father insisted they attend. It hadn’t been bad. Steve ran interference like a pro-football player. It worked like a charm and Howard responded well to Steve’s casually thrown out military references. Sometimes it was like Howard gloried in everything that Steve did and nothing that Tony did – though Steve spent a great amount of time gushing over Tony’s accomplishments. Tony would never be enough for Howard – not ever.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said as he toed off his dress shoes. During the long day, they’d stopped home and changed so that Tony didn’t have to hang out in his gown and hood, and Steve didn’t have to worry about getting his dress uniform completely trashed. 

Tony tugged off his tie and tossed it on the file cabinet he’d built out of old car parts. “About what?”

“The dinner,” Steve replied. “It wasn’t what you hoped, and I think that’s a little because of me.” Steve turned around to face Tony. His blue shirt needed to be a size larger; his biceps threatened the seams. 

“Don’t,” Tony said and flopped on the bed. He bent down to pull off his sneakers. There was no end of hellish looks about his inappropriate footwear at the swanky restaurant. “Dad can never find the time, energy, or compassion to appreciate me.”

Steve sat next to Tony on the bed, his arm around Tony’s shoulders. “But he should. I didn’t want him to keep turning every subject about the military and about me.”

Tony considered Steve’s words, and he believed them. Standing up, he turned to look down at Steve. “You know what gets me the most? That he’s happy for me.”

“Well, he should be.”

Tony paced back and forth in the room before he stopped and said, “No, you don’t get it. He’s happy for me because I’m with you. Not because of my accomplishments, but because I’m with someone from the military, someone who he deems as respectable.”

Steve shrunk down, slumped and bowed his head. “Like I said, Tony, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make any of this about me today.”

That was not what Tony wanted at all. He rushed to Steve, knelt down and put his hands on Steve’s knees. “No, you don’t say sorry. There’s nothing I’m more proud of than being with you. You’ve changed me for the good. I’ve learned so much I got another fucking degree out of it. You have moved me.”

Steve smiled, that adorable shy smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Tony said and shook his head. “Howard can be a big jerk, but he’s right about one thing. You’re the sun and the moon.”

“Oh, I cannot believe you just said that,” Steve said and his color flared. “You sound like an old romance novel.”

“Or maybe one of those old love letters from back in the day,” Tony said and it came to him that he was kneeling in front of Steve. Kneeling and professing his love. The words tumbled out of him as naturally as the solution to a mathematical problem because this was a resolution, this was the new beginning he was really looking for- hoping for. “I want to marry you, Steve. I love you and I want you to be with me. Will you?”

Steve gasped – as if he’d never expected it – which Tony had to admit he hadn’t been planning any of this today. “Tony, you don’t mean that. You’re just upset about Howard.”

Tony picked up Steve’s hands and held them to his scarred chest. “I know exactly what I want. I want to study energy. I want to change the world. I want to understand the world, and I want to share the world with you. The only thing that will make it all worth it. You.”

“Tony.”

“Say yes.”

Steve lowered his eyes for a moment, staring at their entangled fingers. “Tony. I want to – I want to say yes.”

“Then say yes,” Tony replied. It was then that Steve raised his eyes and, for the first time in their entire relationship, Tony found timidity there – something so uncharacteristic of Steve. Tony had to answer it. “I’m here. Together we can do this.”

“Are you sure? Because,” Steve said and then the warmth of the moment blushed his cheeks and he couldn’t contain it anymore. “Because yes, yes, yes.”

“Yes?” Tony said and he found himself getting to his feet, found himself asking ‘yes? yes? yes?’ again and again.

“Yes.” Steve jumped up and picked Tony up, spinning him around – just like one of those old romantic movies. 

Tony couldn’t help the laughter or the crazy feeling in his chest – like his pacemaker just might glitch or something. Finally, Steve stopped the spinning, and set Tony back on the floor. And did what he was made to do – always.

He kissed Tony. It was nothing like that first kiss because it couldn’t be. That first kiss they shared had been a kind of exploration, a welcoming to a new journey, a new phase of life. But this – this was different even though it signified a beginning as well. This matured and deepened. It became something so different and so potent that Tony’s legs nearly went out on him. If it hadn’t been for Steve, they might have collapsed beneath him. Steve guided Tony to the bed and they fell upon it. 

They’d written letters. The course had been called the lost art of correspondence. Tony found some truth in that – as the world grew and developed in complicity the intricacies and beauty of a long letter written by hand faded. He discovered more than just how to write a salutation, how to construct a letter that told the story of his daily life, how to reach out across the world and tie an invisible thread to another. He learned to let his defenses fall, to let them crumble away and to accept with open invitation another heart, another soul. Words held a power he’d only just come to respect and understand. Words delivered in so many ways had brought him to this moment with his beloved wrapped in his arms, held by his body, and would be his forever more. 

In some ways as Steve explored and kissed and loved Tony’s body, worshipped him in ways that demonstrated such a gentle and powerful love, Tony finally knew what he’d been waiting for. It wasn’t accolades or popularity or acknowledgement of his intellect. In many ways, he already had many of those things. What he’d missed, what he yearned for, had been someone – had been Steve.

As he cuddled into Steve’s arms, their lovemaking hot and vibrating through their bodies still, Tony listened to the heartbeat of the man he loved. He whispered, “You’re sure.”

“Absolutely,” Steve said, his voice a little ragged from their heated moments.

Tony perched up on Steve’s chest, gazing at him in the starry night. “I used to be afraid of this, you know.”

“Of what?” Steve’s eyes glimmered in the moonlight that streamed in through the large windows along the back of Tony’s eastern wing. 

“Commitment. Being with someone. I never used to hang onto relationships before. I ran away before they got too serious,” Tony said and then sank down into Steve’s arms again. “I never even really let anyone – you know – let anyone be with me like you are.” He couldn’t believe how self-conscious, how inexperienced he sounded. He wasn’t, not by a long shot.

Steve caressed Tony’s back. He buried his face in the mess of Tony’s hair and then said, “Well I supposed we have that in common then.”

“It really doesn’t count for you, since you really never had much experience at all,” Tony said. “Plus I’m serious. You’re my first, that way. And my last. I want you to be the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about when I go to sleep.”

Steve smiled as Tony looked up at him. “I think we can safely say we’re in love. Don’t you?” 

Returning Steve’s smile wasn’t hard and Tony laid back down and kissed his chest. “Promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“You’ll write. You’ll write me long letters, by hand. Send them to me through the mail. Every day.” He didn’t just want emails or text message or phone calls. He wanted letters that had postage stamps and were dropped in the mail to come by a postman. He wanted to smell the letters and feel them. He wanted to see coffee mug ring stains on them, and know that Steve held them. The art of correspondence was not lost, not to him. He’d found it, and he’d found his love. “Promise me you’ll write.”

Steve pressed his lips to Tony’s crown. “All the days of my life,” Steve murmured and Tony’s breath caught in his throat. “All the days.”

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Some words to the wise - This Field Captain stuff is all made up. It doesn't happen that way in the military. The medical stuff is only 50-60% real. But it was fun, wasn't it?
> 
> I'm on tumblr, sometimes. You can find me there as winterstar95. I'm a big MCU Steve fan and will defend him to my virtual death.


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